Anagram
by LadyTigerFuyuko
Summary: The truth of the tale of Krin'nal, the story of two sides of the same coin. Life in Hyrule isn't always pretty, especially when you're a hired blade...Chapter 5 part A Finally Up!
1. Ropolgue

Fuyuko: Squee! Another Zelda ficcie! Hopefully, it will go somewhere, since the idea hamster is actively spinning in its wheel on this plot. However, I must disappoint you all by saying there is no Link in this fic (at least we think not, right Mr. Hamster?). Anyways, on with the fic! Please R&R, I love feedback! Also, also, um, the chapter titles are all anagrams, so try to solve them and make Mr. Hamster happy. Or tell Disclaimer-Bot you hate them. He handles all legal complaints and flames.

Disclaimer-Bot: Mr. Hamster and his author chick have programmed me to tell you that they do not own The Legend of Zelda or any of its associated characters, places, or other in-story references. They have also programmed me to tell you that they do own Krin'nal. Mostly. I, Disclaimer-Bot, have 3 shares in him.

Krin'nal: WHAT!

&

Anagram - Ropolgue 

"I am not who I was before, and yet I am still me. My self has become jumbled." – Krin'nal

&

It began a mere two months after he left without a word. It stopped for a full turn of seasons when he came back to say he was leaving for good, when he disappeared. It began again a day later.

For a while, there was talk of trying to call him back to see if he could catch it. From the underground, there was whispered a rumor that he could not and that was why he left. The people fell silent; it was not their problem. They were not attacked by it. The nobles were furious. In their rage, they scratched him from the history books that they could claw into.

It only intensified in return. Over time it joined life as normal.

This is the tale of a fall from grace, of desperation, of two sides of the same coin. This is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, exactly as it happened.

&

A young boy with dark blonde hair watched a girl his own age tending a stand in the market's corner, with nonchalant eyes. She stepped away to talk to a group of customers, trying to sell one of the latest hair-care products. He stepped forward, out of the light, into the shadow of the stand. His eyes examined a jewel-encrusted jar under a glass case. His fingers skimmed the top, a slight caress, as if testing.

"That's not for sale, boy." A fat old man, the real owner of the stand, swung his bulk into view. His belt was studded with aquamarines, and layered with gold. The boy scanned its opulence distastefully.

_Such greed, surely he will not miss this piece. And my client only needs to 'borrow' it anyway._

The boy took out a piece of paper.

"I told you, it's not for sale, and I'm not bargaining or taking any orders. Scram boy." The man's spittle landed on the boy's soft, sunlit, hair.

"I'm just looking, sir. Do you mind? I need to take a few notes on it for a professor at Hyrule's University. He wanted to know what it really looked like. Y'know, up close and personal."

"What? It's not some rare artifact, kid. It's only a bottle of Artellian shampoo."

The paper was joined by a stick of charcoal.

"I know that, sir. But I heard it was imported from the royal Artellian vaults…"

"How do you…? Nevermind. Listen, take your stupid notes and go away. I have lots of business to attend to. Myresa!" The girl scurried quickly over, bowing low, in apology.

"My lord? What shall I do?"

"See that this boy keeps his hands off the goods. I must attend the matters of my customers." He left, ignoring her agreement and bow. The boy smiled at her as he wrote on the piece of paper. She blushed, shyly showing a dimpled smile in return. Her embarrassed eyes shifted sideways. He took her hand in his. She closed her eyes, and giggled. His hand pressed something into hers. It pulled away. She had never seen it coming.

When she opened her eyes a few seconds later, the bottle was gone. So was the boy. The glass case remained. So did the note.

She unfolded it to her manager, crying and terrified of losing her favorite job. She did not, for on it was written the word "Anagram". Nobody could blame the girl for being roped in by it.

&

Krin'nal grinned to himself as he counted the rupees he'd gotten as a reward for collecting that stupid little jar of Artellian shampoo. Robbery was just too easy. He'd perfected it without ever knowing it, but then again, he was a prodigy.

_Thirteen years old, no background of any notable mention, no training, just raw skills, and I'm one of the best in the business. Why does old Getado say being a hired man is hard?_

He could carry out petty shoplifting in the blink of an eye, rob a bank in under two minutes, and raid a royal storehouse in one sun's zenith.

Getado claimed it took the average robber three times as much effort, and five times as much time. Krin'nal had often wondered if it was because they made such 'careful' plans. Those never worked, and they always slowed down the process. Personally, it was easier just to let his fingers do the work.

Can't believe I charmed that girl like that. Too easy. Maybe I'll start looking for harder jobs… 

Having stowed more than half of the 'gracious' reward in his safety, Krin'nal threw on the black cloak he wore to any underground spot. It covered his regular clothes well, serving doubly to hide his still young frame, giving many the perception they were seeing a short, slight man and not a young boy. His regular outfit, a black tunic and brown pants, gave away his true age too easily, and he had learned very early, that jobs did not come to those seen as children in the business. Getado often said that Krin'nal was, if nothing else, a fast learner.

In fact, there were many opinions besides old Getado's about Krin'nal's success in the business of the underground. The average Hylian on the streets said that it was his adaptability that gave him an edge, having heard gossip that he was brilliant at thinking on his feet even when staring up the length of a guard's spear. A foolish person had once declared that it was the skills of a past life that benefited his slight of hand tricks. The nobility-and his other victims-simply moaned that he was like a cockroach-hard to find and even harder to squash.

_I'd tell them that my success has more to do with keeping my eyes and ears open, like the Goddesses made them to be, and using the hands they, shall we say, 'gifted' me with, more than anything else, _mused Krin'nal as he loped down the alley towards the Chaste Chasm, the best bar and brothel in the underground wire, with even better whiskey and women, as he'd heard. Besides, it was almost a safe-house for the teen, since the owner had been blade pals with Getado in the Great War, and had known right away that Krin'nal was more than what met the average eye when they'd first been introduced by Getado. His long striding jog having taken him to the door of the establishment, the black cloaked youth smirked at his previous thoughts. _Then again, saying that wouldn't show that I was using the brain the Golden Ladies gave me, now would it? Anyone with half a wit knows that to tell a secret is to ask to have it used against you, _he reflected as he cracked open the door to the back of the Chaste Chasm's bar. Vern would yell at him, but the shock on his face was always too funny to resist.

_He's yet to learn that locked doors mean nothing to me. _

&

"Hello, Vern. Am I old enough to sneak a drink while I'm behind the bar?" Krin'nal watched as the owner of the Chaste Chasm fell off his serving stool, dropping his pipe of Deku leaf in the process. _Heh._

_Hilarious._

"No, you ain't kid. Besides, even if I thought you were, which I don't, the missus would kill me. You know how she feels about teaching the youth to drink." Vern, a short man with a full head of messy cocoa colored hair, picked his pipe back up as he turned around to yell at the boy. As the owner of a very popular and very busy bar, he was often short-tempered, and seemed cranky, though his family and friends knew that he wasn't, and that he just liked the excuse to be crass with his words. The regular patrons joked that he was compensating for his build, as the man was tiny, barely standing half the height of the average Hylian man-about 6'5"-yet the owner had a stocky, big-boned build, and was swathed in muscles that popped out when he was yelling.

"And let me tell you this, punk: the next time you come in that door, I'm gonna to pull you down that hallway, and put you through seventy-two hours of straight dish-washing before I send your filthy, starving self down to my butcher friend on the corner of the back alley. If you're lucky, he'll chop you up as somebody's sausage, if not, then I'm taking you back, and you're gonna scrub everything here-and I mean all of it-with your tongue. If you're lucky, the girls' last patrons will have included someone with a disease that'll kill you. If not, then I'm gonna…ah, well, you don't care do you?" Vern shook his head, pulled a glass off the shelf and poured a shot of fire whiskey for himself. Krin'nal grinned cheekily, watching carefully as Vern lifted the glass to his lips. A little too carefully.

"Thanks, pal, I needed a drink." Krin'nal said as he raised the swiped shot to his own lips, making as if to down it all in one go. Vern's eyes bugged out, and the muscles on his body began to pop out again, before he chuckled dryly. Krin'nal grinned again and handed the glass back, still full. It was an inside joke between them, as Vern knew the kid didn't drink, claiming it was wrong for him to do so at his age. The man found it odd that a thief had morals like that, but he'd have to side with his wife that it was probably a good thing for the boy to hold to them.

Sitting down in the pair of serving stools behind the bar, Krin'nal thanked one of the girls for setting out a glass of Lon Lon for him, tipping her with the change. The pair watched as she walked away, wiping down the bar, and pushing the head of a sleeping patron off the bar. He slid to the floor, making a loud thump, and mumbling something before snoring loudly. Krin'nal sniggered.

"So, you rascal, what are you doing in my bar in the middle of the freaking afternoon?"

"You know me, Vern, I couldn't resist seeing your angry face."

"Right. Well, you saw it, now scram."

"Really? You won't miss me?"

"Not a chance in Hades."

"Ouch." There was a beat of silence, as they watched one of the girls walk by, already dressed for her work. She tweaked Krin'nal's ear as she passed. He blinked. Vern told her to leave him alone, at least until puberty. She left, saying the missus wanted to see Vern after Krin'nal stopped harassing him. "At least until puberty? Jeez, Vern, way to embarrass me. This is why none of the girls here try to give me any, you've told them all I'm too young."

"I didn't tell them, the missus did it. She thinks if you don't want to drink, you don't want to fool around either."

"Hmph. Well, I guess that's true, but, c'mon, gimme a break, I'm not a total child. I mean I've robbed three people blind in the past six days, and made the 'deliveries'. Speaking of business, hear any good jobs? I'm getting bored with the petty thieving I've had to do lately."

"Way to beat around the bush, kid. No jobs came through in your line, but I got one you might tell Getado to come look at, hired blade for a jealous noble seeking to x-off another stupid noble, for sleeping with the slut noble wife."

"Heh. Lovely. I'll tell him to run by eventually if I see him. It's not like I live in his shack anymore."

"I know. Just asking, you, kid. It's probably the least you can do, you owe him for the help." Vern watched as Krin'nal considered this, knowing the kid well enough to tell what was on surface of his mind. Even he knew not to claim the ability to know what Krin'nal was thinking deep in his head. Nobody ever knew more than the thief let them.

"I'll do it, Vern. But I don't think he'll come by tonight. He just got back, from what I heard at the Knothole last night."

Vern opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the missus. "The Knothole? What were you doing at the Knothole, child? Tain't no place for a little boy like yourself." Vern's wife, more commonly known as the missus, was a round woman, with rosy cheeks and pale chestnut hair that might have made her a beautiful girl in her day. However, time had made her into a short, round ball with a sweet face, rather than a beauty queen. Like her husband, people claimed that she acted according to how she looked, playing the role of the large, stern, yet sweet matron of Chaste Chasm just a little too well. Krin'nal seemed to shrink before the pair, knowing he'd let slip with something dangerous before the missus and knowing Vern wouldn't stand up to his wife.

_Damn. I'm screwed so bad this time. It's worse than the time she thought I was deliberately burning my hands._ He made the pretext of being confused, looking around the Chaste Chasm, pretending to locate what the couple was glaring at. As an observer, Krin'nal had noticed that the Chaste Chasm wasn't a bad place to look at, since it had decent light from wall sconces behind the bar and above the row of tables on the opposite wall, and a large, slow-spinning, wooden belt fan in the middle of the ceiling. There was a small stage up front, mostly for cheap music groups and rundown stand-ups, but it had a spot where a pole could be placed for one of the girls to dance on the rare unbooked night. As a thief, Krin'nal had noticed that the Chaste Chasm wasn't a bad place to steal from either, since it had no security of its own, all the liquor was in one storeroom and the bar itself, the front and back doors were the only ones that locked, and nothing was bolted down. At least, on this level. He'd never been upstairs, because the missus was horrified that he'd learn too many things he didn't need to know at 'his young, innocent, impressionable age' about the brothel life. She had her points, he thought, reflecting that she was also a little right about him burning his hands on purpose.

…_Alright, so maybe I was burning my hands deliberately that one time, but I didn't know the nobleman had a fire shield around his Ruby of Flames. I mean c'mon it's not like I could just leave it there, either. My employer wanted it or my head. Not exactly a great choice, there Wresta, I'll sacrifice my hands to get a stupid jewel before I'll give up my head._

"Well, child? What were you doing in the Knothole?" The missus, Wresta, hardened her gaze, as she saw him sheepishly direct his attention back to her, letting him know that his little show hadn't thrown her off his trail. Vern gave the boy a sympathetic glance, but let his wife continue chastising him. Everyone knew that Vern never stood up to her, partly because he was completely cowed by her, but also because he adored her, and would have given her anything she ever asked for, Goddesses' permission or not.

"I was listening to the gossip, I swear it, Missus Wresta."

"Were you? And what else did you hear, 'sides the fact that your pal Getado had just got back to town? Hear any rumors of how a man-a full grown man-got killed at the Knothole last week? Certainly that's a might sight worse than a boy getting broom-smacked here today." Wresta's eyes bore down on Krin'nal's skull like some kind of holy fire, as the boy himself got red in the eartips, with embarrassment. The bar was opening, patrons would be coming in soon, the girls were all on the floor, and here he was, a famed thief, getting yelled at by some middle-aged lady. In a yellow Cucco chick apron.

"I, uh, might have heard that rumor, um, once. Er, maybe a couple more times…"

"I thought so! You come on over here with me, child, we've some talking to do! Vern, hand me my little sweeper broom, would you?"

"Yes, dear," he replied, getting off the stool as she grabbed Krin'nal by the base of his ear and dragged him off to the storeroom. The young thief, tomato red and sputtering, looked at his friend helplessly, begging for mercy from the missus. "Sorry, kid, it's probably for the best that you get a whackin' from her."

_Damn! I hate this! This is exactly why I'm glad I don't have any parents!_

&

**Fuyuko: I suppose that now, since you've put up with it all chapter, would be a good time to mention that the italics is Krin'nal's personal thoughts and NO-ONE ELSE'S. Only special little Krin'nal gets the italics. **

**Krin'nal: _Fat load of help you are. Stupid author chick. I got beaten up with a broom. By a fat old lady in a chicken apron. Humiliating. _**

**Fuyuko: I heard that, you brat. Now get over here so I can tweak your cute little ears!**

**Krin'nal: NOOOoooooooo…!**

**Read and Review or Die the Death of a Thousand Twizzlers!**


	2. Gatolnasi

Fuyuko: HiHiHi! It's the next chapter of Anagram already, served up hot for your reading pleasure! Mr. Hamster has been running extra hard in his wheel these past two days, so he made me type the prologue and first chapter for you. Be happy:P Also, in case nobody figured it out or nobody READ and REVIEWed, the anagram title was ROPOLQUE which becomes PROLOGUE. Huh, what's that you say Mr. Hamster? Okey-dokey, I got the message jokey! Mr. Hamster says it's Disclaimer-Bot time now.

**Disclaimer-Bot: Mr. Hamster has programmed me to tell you he is not liable for her insanity. Mr. Hamster and his author chick have also programmed me to tell you that they do not own the legend of Zelda. They own Krin'nal, Vern, Missus Wresta, and all other non-standard Zelda characters. On behalf of myself, Disclaimer-Bot, please enjoy the fiction. That is all.**

**&**

**Anagram – Nostalgia**

"Ya can't go back to the past, kiddo, not without blowing yahself right out o' the water, an' sinking the whole frickin' ship with ya." –Getado to Krin'nal

&

Night fell on the burb of Hyrule Castle Town slowly, blanketing the Hylian people in a cloak of black illuminated only by the light of the stars overhead and the scattered torches around the doorways of late-night shops. Krin'nal sighed as he watched this event occur from the cornerstone of the Temple of Time, the shroud of night was like the one he had cast over his past. Though not a shadow of fear, anger, or sadness, both the veil of the night and the cloak that Krin'nal had donned were hiding the truth from the eyes of those who were not one with them, seeing shadows as places for only an enemy to reside.

_There are those that know the truth though. Maybe nobody knows the whole truth, but there are a lot of people that know most of it. I mean, old Getado knows everything but the reason I ran, and Vern and Wresta know that I'm not really this thief named Krin'nal. Well, I am Krin'nal and I am a thief, but I think what I meant was that they know that I'm someone else too. Or that I was. Heck, nearly the whole crew at the Chaste Chasm knows at least that I'm not who I say I am. Heh. Gotta wonder if having this much truth out there is safe for my career. What do you think, lady night? Is it a good thing for me to have so many people know my secrets? I wonder what old Getado would say. He's the one that helped me hide myself in the first place, and he's always trying to tell me how to run my 'business', the old geezer._

Krin'nal pouted to himself, his mouth twisting downward in a sour grimace as he lay back on the cool gray marble of the Temple. Maybe Vern was right, and maybe he did owe Getado a little, but that didn't excuse the fact that the old geezer probably owed him a few years of his life in lectures. Absently, the teen pulled a slim lock-picker's dagger out of the hood of his cloak, twirling it lazily between his fingers. It was one of those nervous tics that people never notice about themselves, but that everyone that knows them always does. All the servers at the Chaste Chasm, Getado, and even some of the rough types at the Knothole had noticed that when the prodigy thief's eyes got distant and he appeared to be thinking hard, he would pull a dagger or other blade out from somewhere, anywhere, and start twirling it slowly, often between his fingers. These same silent observers had also noticed that he would slam the blade of choice back into its hiding place when his eyes unclouded and he had stopped thinking so deeply, when he had reached whatever conclusion he had tried to grasp.

With the moon high overhead shining coolly down, the stars watched as the lock-picker's slim dagger slid swiftly back into the folds of Krin'nal's hood. The thief stood with the barest scraping of his black leather boots, his expression still a bit grim, leaving the shadow of the Temple for those of the nearest alleyway.

_Alright, then, let's go see old Getado. I did say I would tell him about the job, at least._

&

The back alleys of Hyrule Castle Town were not known as the safest or prettiest vistas in the area, but they did carry a reputation for being the perfect home for many of the sleazier citizens of Hyrule. Nearly every alley was in some level of disrepair, with abandoned houses, broken down shops, boxes of goods emptied and stacked against the walls, poor lighting, and quite a selection of nooks and crannies to hide in. Like everywhere else though, even these 'armpits of Hyrule'-as the nobles referred to them-had a caste system, which was evidenced by where people lived. When Krin'nal had first fled his old life he had noticed right away-mostly by being shoved out of his first hiding place-that the type of underhanded work you did, and your relative success at it denoted where a person could live in the alleys-without getting evicted.

_Come to think of it, that was how I met Getado. I tried to take over his shack while he was on a mission, and he didn't have the heart to toss me out on my ear. What a softie. _

It might have struck an ordinary person as odd that Krin'nal hadn't been afraid of the people lurking in the alley's shadows; Getado claimed that the boy didn't have enough sense to be afraid of anything, even if it was twenty times his size and wanted to use him as a toothpick. It could be said however, that the only reason Getado took the newly escaped Krin'nal under his wing was the fact that he was fearless. It was a quality that the old war veteran was said to admire, something to do with a personal shame in his own past.

Whatever the reasons were, it was true that Getado and Krin'nal had kept a strange kind of kinship since the first day they'd met-they respected each other, and helped each other, but they also ridiculed each other. Vern, who knew them both, had once remarked that it was a form of sparring only without swords.

Krin'nal grinned wryly as he stalked through the alleyway, cloak swishing around his knees as he came to the partially rotted wood that marked Getado's door. _I'm off to spar with an old friend, then, eh Vern? Bet he'd love to see this one. We always do have the 'best' times after the old guy gets back._ The young thief knocked lightly on the door, mindful not to knock it down.

"Go 'way, ya buggers, I've naught to talk about with ya!" The face that revealed itself to Krin'nal was framed by a rough russet stubble, wrinkled eyes, bushy eyebrows, and was crowned by a halo of graying russet hair surrounding a bald spot. The body that was attached to the grizzled head also carried signs of trial and aging, with scars on its arms, and sun-beaten, weathered skin that looked a bit like the leather boots and vest on it. This was the man known as Getado, who had seen the years of the Great War, been to Hades and decided to stay. In his day Getado had been a revered swordsman, a champion marksman in the annual Castle Town archery contest. When the war came the whole town saw him enlist, train diligently, and march off to the battle zones with pride. When the war was over, the whole town saw him return with his head down, his life made into a mockery, and his step heavy with shame. Krin'nal never asked what this shame was, but he had heard from Vern that it was the reason Getado had come back as a ruined man, and the reason why he had become a hired blade.

_I remember the old guy telling me one time that being a hired blade was his way to forget the past, the pain, and the shame. _

"I'm not a bugger, Getado. But if you really want me to go, I will. I'll just have to tell Vern that he can pass the info on that job around to someone else."

"Eh? Ah, Krin'nal, 'tis just ya. I though it might be that stupid moron tryin' to sell me some ol' junk blades."

"Junk blade seller's in this alley again? I kinda hope he asks the wrong guy, you know?"

"Sure, kid, sure. C'mon inside, why don't ya? Ya can tell me about that job over some joe."

"I'll pass on the coffee. It tastes like liquid ash. Probably because you've gone senile and forgotten how to make a proper brew."

"Don't start with me, kiddo, I've never seen ya try cook naught. Most likely 'tis cause ya've no idea how to build a proper fire."

"Fire? Heh. Primitive. I use a portable hot skillet. It has this handy heat spell on it, that cooks my food for me."

"I'll have a good laugh, then, when yah're out in the cold and that silly thing's spell breaks on ya. Ya won't be havin' a hot meal then, will ya kiddo?"

"Sure I will. I'll just steal it from somewhere, like I do everything else."

"Ya goin' to rob a wild animal then? I'm sure that them bears and wolves won' be tryin' to stop you from eating their catch. Just like I'm sure the buggers cook it first. Or maybe ya think ya can get it from the pixies? Pixie food is a might good thing for a human boy to eatin'." The hired blade sat himself down in one of the worn wooden chairs at the side of a thick plank that had been nailed to a barrel. Krin'nal kicked his boots up on the unsteady makeshift table, leaning back in another less rickety chair. The man seated across from him furrowed his bushy brows, narrowing his eyes in an irritated way at the thief's blatant roguishness. Krin'nal glanced at Getado's expression, and before the man could open his mouth to tell the teen off, he smirked cheekily and whipped his boots off the table. It was just too much fun to irritate the old swordsman.

Satisfied, Getado, took a swig of coffee before he looked at Krin'nal again. "So what's this job ya keep nattin' on about? Vern ought to know that I don't like to do one right after I get back. A man needs to give himself time to relax, ya know?"

"I know that old man, but this might pay you well enough you could rest for the rest of the year."

"Ah, c'mon now, kiddo, do ya really think that's goin' to happen?"

"It is a possibility. Vern said this job was from a noble. Apparently he's not happy with his wife's affairs with another noble. Love triangles aren't his thing, I guess."

"Love triangles? Kiddo, ya've got some strange ideas of what adultery is. 'Tis a bad thing for a man or a woman to be cheatin' on their spouse."

"Like you care? Jeez, come off it, it's a trio of nobles. They're all shallow. Only good thing about a rich person is that they pay up quite handsomely, especially if you threaten to expose their dirty little deeds." Krin'nal face had gone through a number of changes during this last statement, from sarcasm with Getado's preaching, to a twisted snarl of anger at the nobles, before finally coming to rest on a sick, cruel expression of joy at being able to exploit his own employers. Getado watched it all from across the table, wondering mildly if it was a good thing to let this particular person work in the underground. Whatever had happened to make the boy run form his past life had surely left a bad taste in the youth's mouth about the nobility and their extravagant, pathetic lifestyles, and letting him work with hardened criminals certainly wasn't helping to improve his anger management. Getado couldn't remember a time when the boy hadn't hated the nobility, or when the mention of them hadn't riled his temper.

"So? Are you going to take the job or not? 'Cause I need to get back to Vern about it, soon. I'm not working as a messenger boy for the two of you. I could be looking for a job of my own right now, but no, I'm here, telling you about a job that you don't even seem to have heard me talk about. Are you going deaf old geezer?"

"No, kiddo, I'm not goin' deaf. I'm just wondering why ya care about this job so much. Ya ain't the one that's goin' to get paid for it."

"Maybe it's 'cause I came all the way out here to tell you about it."

Getado grunted, glaring at the thief to let him know the 'old geezer' wasn't buying his story. Krin'nal glared right back. The grizzled old hired blade sighed. "Alright, kiddo, get yahself back to Vern and tell him I'll take the job. I'll not ask what ya reasons for caring about this are again. 'Tis not my business anyway, eh?"

"Damn straight it's not. Now, I'm going to get back to Chaste Chasm before I head out to handle my own business myself. Take care, old man." Krin'nal stood, striding over to the doorway a little to rapidly, his back a straight line of anger. Getado shook his head as he watched the boy he'd taken in and set on the path to being a hired man leave without a backward glance. The door groaned painfully, trying to keep itself on its rusty hinges from where it had been slammed a little harshly.

"Take care of yahself, kiddo. I don't want to see ya miss out on the rest of ya life because o' some stupid grudge."

&

_Funny how the weather reflects my mood so much,_ thought Krin'nal as he stalked down the back alleys angrily, _usually it makes me happy to know someone's on my side, but right now it's just ticking me off!_ The night skies had become ever darker than before, filling with black clouds shortly after his departure from Getado's home. Not too much had, the thief had been chagrined to feel rain drops pat on his head, as the sky let loose an angry rumble. He was completely soaked now, his blonde hair made even darker, almost brown, and plastered to the sides of his head. His cloak dragged heavily on his shoulders, filled with rainwater, and his boots sloshed with it.

The gloomy weather did nothing to improve his hope that he could talk to Vern, look for a job and then leave without anyone making a fuss. The Chaste Chasm was probably crammed full of people, trying to get out of the storm, which meant Vern would be twice as busy and twice as hard to talk to alone. Then there was the fact that the missus, who was doubtless clucking over the state of the people escaping from the storm would spot him and try to smother him in one of those stupid fluffy towels she kept around for just such an occasion.

_She'll probably try to get me to take a 'nice hot soak', then she'll want to smother me again in the stupid towel like some kind of wet dog, all the while clucking about how it's a 'terrible tragedy that a little boy child like me has to be out in that nasty, horrible, weather.' Ugh. Revolting. I really hate being mothered like that. I'm not a child; I can take care of myself just fine. _He gave a long suffering sigh as he thought that, recalling with a bitter distaste how often everyone still treated him like a child, and yet, how much worse it had been the first few months he had after he had meet them.

&Flashback&

His breath came in great gasps, not from running physically but from running away. He had spent the past two days plotting it, the last thirteen hours setting it up piece by painstaking piece, and finally the vast amount of forty minutes to pull it all off. He'd never thought that running away could be so ridiculous. Or so complicated. He'd always heard the Princess go on and on about how all they had to do in those books she'd read was tie some sheets together and slip out the nearest window.

_Heh. Whoever wrote those books needs to get a piece of my mind for making it seem so easy. I wonder what everyone will say when they discover that I've 'mysteriously vanished'._ The blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy frowned. _Come to think of it, I can't be me if I'm supposed to have just dropped of the face of Hyrule._ What would he do now, then? Should he cross the border to another of the Seven Lands? No, too many people knew his name all over the world for him to simply go to another country. _Some nosy, righteous, know-it-all would just capture me and send me packing right back to where I 'belong', with my luck._ Deciding that they probably wouldn't go looking for him in the most obvious of places-the town right under their noses-the boy made his way slowly down to the town square. It was night right now, and he knew he was hard to spot in the dark, but come sunrise and daylight, he'd stand out like a sore thumb. He'd have to find a place to hide, to lie low for a few until they thought he wasn't going to come back and that he couldn't be found.

_Now where to hide myself…hm…I could hide in the back of a shop, but if the owner found me…in fact, almost anywhere I'd hide there would probably be some good citizen who'd turn me back over. Heh. So what about the bad citizens? They don't have any reason to hand me back over to the same people who make them outcasts, now do they?_ A roguish grin split the boy's youthful face at the very idea of hiding in the alleys, with the people who'd be least likely to even show interest in him. _Jackpot._ Now all he had to do was find the dingiest alley, pick a dark corner to hide in, sit back, and get comfy with his new freedom.

&

Unfortunately, even the best laid plans have flaws in them, and the boy who would become Krin'nal had found out rather quickly that having a proper hiding place in the back alleys of Hyrule Castle Town meant having an underhanded job in the underground of Hyrule. After the first night, when he'd been too wired with the adrenaline of his escape to rest somewhere, the youth had spent a day getting progressively hungrier, and just a tiny bit unsure of what to do next. By sundown of that first day, having wandered aimlessly through the winding connections of the back alleys, and occasionally running from guards, he was hungry, tired, and very frustrated with himself for not planning this part of his 'daring escape'.

_Food is definitely at the top of my 'to do' list right now. Followed by a nice place to sleep. Heh. This is worse than the days of my early childhood. I mean, at least then I had one friend and a cozy house to come back to every night. _The soon to be thief stopped, smelling the air around him, hoping to catch that scent that had been tingling his nose just a few seconds ago. If he was right, if it was what he thought it was…_There! It is! Sweet merciful Goddesses, I'm saved! Food!_ The boy ran toward the scent, forgetting that he only had ten rupees in his wallet, not really needing it in his past life. As he skidded to a stop I front of a deli stand, he could feel his mouth watering, and felt his stomach rumble before he ever felt it. Time to eat, he thought, as he approached the vendor behind the stand.

"Sir, please excuse, but may I see your prices? I'm really hungry."

"Sure sonny, a regular size sandwich-with the works-is exactly 25 rupees. Made from all real Cucco and Lon Lon beef cattle meats, with fresh Labrynnian vegetables." The elderly vendor smiled down at him, but the child suddenly felt like what he was-a helpless little child. He'd forgotten to pack more money. _Well, maybe if I ask him nice enough he'll bring it down. I think I've got twenty still._ He checked his wallet. _Or maybe not. _

"Actually, sir, I'm just a teensy bit short on cash. Could you, um, maybe give me a discount? Like say, maybe a half off or something?"

"Half-off? Sorry, sonny, but I've got to make a living, especially now. My wife's got a touch of the flu." Seeing the boy's sorrowful expression though, the old man relented. He remembered what it was like to being trying to make it in the world. "But, hey, sonny, I'll tell you what, I'll give you half a sandwich for, well, let's see, ten rupees? You got that much?" The boy turned around, his face a bit brighter.

"Yes, sir, I do. Thank you so much!" He gave his last rupees to the vendor, and watched, salivating, as his food was prepared. It wasn't much, but he'd make it last, make it tide him over. The vendor wished him luck as he handed the youth his sandwich, and the recipient thanked him profusely as he walked away.

Later that evening, having eaten part of his sandwich, the boy watched the stars from the inside of a large crate he'd found the other night, but been kicked out of by one of the men nearby, telling him to keep out of

'his buddy's house'. Tonight nobody had been there guarding it, and he had taken it for himself. Looking out at the stars that twinkled down on him with the same luminous optimism they had every other night of his life, the boy who would be Krin'nal reflected silently about what he'd done and what he was going to do. _Maybe it won't be as cushy as either of my past lives, but I won't miss the either. This kind of freedom is unrivaled, unreal. And I'll find a way to survive, to live the way I want to live. I've just got to find the right path to get there. Tomorrow, _he thought as he lay down to sleep_, tomorrow is the day my new life will really begin. I won't be me anymore, as of the next sunrise, and yet, I will still be me._

&

**Fuyuko: Ahahahahaha! That's a wrap, ladies and gents!**

**Readers: …**

**Fuyuko: …What? Sorry if the cliffhanger kills you, I felt like cutting you all off. Don't worry, there'll be more soon, so please don't pelt me with anything right now. Hope you liked this chapter, sorry about randomly throwing the flashback in without hardly any warning. Mr. Hamster said it would be better that way, so blame him. Also, to my four reviewers from last chapter:** **Master of Reality (Krin'nal: It's interesting you think I'm interesting), E1pnvn (Krin'nal: Again, interesting that I'm interesting), Greki, and DarkFoxx03000, thank you so much for taking the time to review. I appreciate it beyond words, because it really helps me to continue writing and posting this story. Now then!**

**Krin'nal: You may want to start throwing stuff now. She has bad news. It's horrible. Really.**

**Fuyuko: Shut up and shrink back to kiddie size, you dirty little thief! **

**Krin'nal: Thief? Why, thank you. But I'm not dirty or little. Definitely not little. I'm not a child.**

**Fuyuko: You are right now. Anyways, all rude interruptions aside, I'm sorry to say that I'm putting this on hiatus while I'm on vacation for a week or so. But Mr. Hamster is already spinning on the next part of the flashback, so not to worry. Oh! And nobody gets the Death of a Thousand Twizzlers, E1pnvn. (For now…Bwahahahahaha!)**

**Read and Review or be…uh…Forced to Eat Chocolate Chip Cookies for Ten Years!**


	3. Fehit

**Fuyuko: Hi! Did you miss me? (cough) Erm, well, yes apologies are in order for the lateness of this chapter…**

**Krin'nal: No kidding. I wouldn't be surprised if they hired me to assassinate you for the lapse.**

**Fuyuko: No, no, that won't be necessary! is looking around nervously You good people wouldn't do that to me would you? It's all Mr. Hamster's fault! He skipped out on me!**

**Krin'nal: (Eyebrow is twitching) Get. To. The. Fic.**

**Fuyuko: …At any rate, I'm home again. Road trips are so boring, and they make me think the strangest things. For example, on the way down, I was spacing out, dreaming about DMC-specifically Dante on his motorcycle-when I all of a sudden thought about how cool a Chrno Crusade and DMC crossover would be. It was one of the most random things I have ever thought. Anyways, as for Anagram, I've been thinking about the later portions more than anything else, mostly because I need to organize them. Well, to make his grumpiness happy, here's Chapter Two of Anagram: Fehit.**

**Disclaimer-Bot: As Mr. Hamster is currently MIA, the Great and Marvelous Krin'nal has programmed me to tell you that he's quitting this story and calling his agent. The author has kindly asked me to say that she owns Krin'nal and all other nonstandard Zelda characters, thus she is their agent and Krin'nal can not therefore quit. She has also programmed me to say that she does not own the Legend of Zelda, Nintendo has its copyright. As always, please Read, Review, and Enjoy the Story! Have a Nice Day!**

**&**

**Anagram – Fehit**

"My humble opinion is that if you don't like your life, don't try to have someone else change it for you. Get up off your own ass and do it yourself." -Rauru to Link

&

Sunrise was indeed a beautiful thing in Hyrule. Some people even thought that it was so beautiful, getting up to see it was a necessity. The local Cuccos even thought that it was pretty enough to be worthy of a crow or two. Other people-most of the land's people that is-didn't find sunrise so enthralling, and would have liked to have shot the Cuccos with an arrow or two. Ordinarily, Krin'nal was one of the later types.

Today, however, he could only blame himself for his rude awakening. He'd been foolish enough to sleep in the crate he'd been kicked out of once before, and as such, the boy had been crudely slapped awake, given a black eye, then tossed out on his face. To top it off, he hadn't even been able to grab his few belongings from his old life. Oh, sure, he had the dagger he'd brought with him, his magic pouch, and his empty wallet, but nothing else had been on him, so he'd lost everything-including the leftover portion of sandwich from yesterday. _No way am I going back for it though_, thought the boy as he limped slowly along, nursing his wounded pride more than anything else. Even he wasn't fool enough to take on a grown man who'd threatened to kill him if he ever saw the boy near his crate again. _Especially just for a sandwich._ He'd have to find another way to get food and other basic supplies for his new life.

_Suppose I could live off the land, I mean, I do have plenty of experience with it. But I'd still need to get supplies and tools. _Realizing he was back at square one, the boy gave long-suffering sigh as he walked slowly through the back alleys of Hyrule Castle Town. He really did need to find a way to make it in the world, but all he came up with was the thought that he was hungry. Wondering how smart running away really had been, he came into the main square, passing a cheese and dairy open-air store as he went. His stomach abruptly growled, reminding him of the lost sandwich and skipped breakfast.

_That sure does look like good cheese…_he glanced around, seeing that the only possible witness was some old guy slumped against a wall, probably drunk clean out. _…And I never did get anything to drink last time. _The boy's eyes skimmed over to the manager, who was busy chattering with the delivery-man of a milk shipment. Surely nobody would see him do it. _Well, the Golden Ladies will, but they wouldn't mind me using my talents to try it, would they? C'mon, they gave me those talents afterall. _True that he'd never tried to use his talents to steal before, but he was rather skilled when it came to using his hands. A friend of his in his first life had once remarked on this gift, telling the youth that since he was so stealthy and swift as a warrior, he'd make a good thief too. The boy glanced furtively around one more time for good measure-it never hurt to double-check one's self, even if you were sure of your self. The old man was still against the wall; he made no signs of awareness. The owner of the dairy store was helping the delivery-man put crates of milk on the ground. They were both oblivious to it.

The boy's stomach growled again. In that same moment, a hand swept under and around a wheel of yellow cheese, dotted with nuts. Two swift, silent, catlike strides later a bottle of Chateau Romani was gone from a newly opened crate. In the blink of an eye, so was the boy.

When the owner of the dairy mart later reported it, the guards didn't take him too seriously. Afterall, he'd never even known anyone was close enough to steal his wares. It was put down in the Guard's records as being suspicious, but not worth investigating. It would later be pulled back out, re-investigated, and compiled into the huge file compromised of unsolved "Anagrams"-as the mysterious calling card thefts came to be called.

On that same day, under the sinking sun, a young boy with dark blonde hair and blue eyes sat eating a wedge of yellow nut cheese, with a half-full bottle of Chateau Romani close at hand. He had decided. From this day forward, he was no longer who he had once been; though he might return briefly for a formal closure to his past life. He was not a servant of others anymore, now he served himself from the plates of others-and yet, he was still a servant, still himself. _I am not who I was before, and yet I am still me. My self has become jumbled_, thought the boy, _I am an anagram, and because of that I am the now one who will be known as Krin'nal._

&

Shortly after Krin'nal had snuck away from his debut robbery, the old man slumped near the stand took a moment to reorganize his thoughts over what he had witnessed. He was pretty sure the kid hadn't known he was awake, but he was also sure that he'd never seen anyone with that kind of skill before in the underground. Watching as the guards came running up, alerted by the departed delivery-man, he noticed that they too looked baffled by the crime. By eavesdropping he could hear them grumbling about how there wasn't 'substantial evidence' to even merit a crime, not even the slightest clue or trail leftover by the 'invisible cheese thief'. The guards were just about to leave the crime and put it down as unsolved and probably a false alarm when the vendor spotted him. Seeing the flustered store-owner point over at him, the old man prepared himself for the questioning he knew was on its way.

One of the younger guards stepped over to him, keeping his spear in a non-threatening position. "We're sorry, sir, but the owner of this dairy store seems to think you might know something of the, um, robbery, that might have occurred here." He looked a bit embarrassed as he spoke, almost as if he was ashamed to be 'investigating' a 'fake' crime. The old man turned over what he had seen in his mind, debating whether the guards would believe it, and if it was worth it to report the kid. The boy had looked pretty scrawny; probably a poor waif who just got a little hungry and was mostly harmless.

"If you know anything at all, you might as well tell us." An older guard had spoken this time, and he seemed to be taking the situation a bit more seriously. 'Trouble with the law's never a good thing,' thought the old man before he spoke.

"Ay, I might have seen somethin'. I was sittin' here restin' my tired eyes when it happened, but I'm mighty sure that I saw a young lad around here a little bit ago."

"And do you think that the boy might have made off with some of the wares from this dairy store?"

"Well, now, I'm none to sure of that notion. The boy weren't standin' very near to anything, but he still might o' done something. Can't be too sure, seenin' as how I was restin' myself."

"Thank you for your aid, sir." The older guard turned to go, telling the owner there was nothing more they could do at the moment. The younger guard followed his senior out, thanking the old man, and apologizing to the vendor for not being able to help him further. The old man decided it was time to cut himself out of the scene, he needed to get back to his home and reclaim it if necessary. He'd just gotten back from carrying out a 'crime' himself, a week-long attempt to assassinate a wizard that was undermining his lord employer. 'Not to mention that I might as well head over to Vern's and see if he knows anything of a new face in the underground. 'Tis not likely that he will, seenin' as how that was probably just some kid off of the streets.'

Limping slightly through the back alleys, the grizzled old fellow came to a stop in front of a large building with a decorated sign hanging over it's doorway. Sighing as he looked past the sign to the sinking sun, the old man braced himself for the burst of noise and action that assaulted him as he walked into the Chaste Chasm during the start of the evening party hours. There were several girls walking around in clothes meant to catch a man's eye, and many more men were leering at them from behind glasses of ale and whiskey near the bar and around tables. On the stage there was a Goron comedian, who had a surprisingly large crowd around him, all laughing hard. Having settled himself on an isolated bar stool, the old man waited for the barkeep to come over to him.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn't my old friend Getado." The short barkeep stood in front of the man, smiling as he pulled down a shot glass and dusted it off for good measure. "What can I do for you? The regular?"

"Ay, grab me a shot o' fire whiskey."

"Sure. How was that last mission, my old friend? You look a bit frazzled."

"Hn. 'Tis naught to do with the mission, a week of wizard chasin' ain't too much for me." Vern noticed that his old war buddy looked a bit loathe to elaborate on why he looked so mixed up, and was expecting to have to prompt the man again when Getado suddenly drained his drink and held the shot out for another. The bar owner poured one as requested, making note to watch his friend's intake-he preferred to keep his patrons, no matter who they were, from being roaring drunk. Swirling the glass in his hand and watching the reddish liquid contemplatively, the old hired blade began speaking again.

"More likely I look 'a bit frazzled' because I've had the pleasure to see the queerest thing today. I was restin' myself a bit in one of the store alleys, ya see, from my job, when this kid walks up out of nowhere."

"Kids walk up from nowhere all the time, Getado. In fact, most people do."

"Maybe so, but that's not the thing that's queer, old friend."

"Well then, what was?"

"This kid looked all scrawny, and he seemed right harmless, but I can swear that I saw him rob the dairy store that I was restin' across from. 'Tis not the robbin' that was odd though, 'tis the fact that the boy seemed to just be able to do it without any type of thinkin' at all."

"I see. Well, he must be a new prodigy then, because I haven't heard of any thieves like that, not even recently. It's more likely that you were to tired to see any flaws in his 'skills', and it was just a hungry brat that got lucky." Getado nodded at Vern's admission, he'd expected as much. Finishing off the last swig of his shot, the hired blade stood up from the bar, tossing a pair of purple rupees at his friend. Vern put the rupees into a box behind the bar's left corner, watching his old blade buddy's back disappear through the entrance of the Chaste Chasm.

&

Krin'nal crept along the sidewall of one of the back alleys, staying under the cover of the shadows from the rooftops. He was in one of the 'better' alleyways, hoping to find himself a place to stay for the night, after having been kicked out of a rundown hotel he'd tried to sneak into. So far, his luck had been bad. _What's with this place? Every time I think I've found a good spot, either the doors and windows are boarded shut, or there's already someone in it!_ The young thief fumed to himself quietly, growing increasingly agitated with his luck, but knowing that he couldn't risk trying to take over something that just seemed vacant. _There's no way in the Sacred Realm that I want a repeat of this morning._ Just thinking about the incident made his black eye throb.

The boy thief stopped in his tracks as his shadows ended and he saw what was illuminated by the moonlight ahead of him. It was a small shack, probably a storage shed at one point in its former life, but it now appeared to be abandoned-completely. Hoping that he wasn't wrong, the youth cracked open the rotting door, glancing inside doubtfully.

_It looks like there really is nobody here._ Stepping inside of the structure, the boy noticed that it did look as though it had been inhabited at one point, but hadn't been used very recently. _If I'm lucky, it'll stay that way, and nobody will boot me out tomorrow morning._

The shack had a homemade table and a couple of chairs in one side of it, and a crate that looked as though it could be used for both storage and a countertop. In the far back right corner, there was an old cot with a crate at its foot. Krin'nal couldn't make out any other details in only the moonlight, but he thought that the crate near the bed looked like it had some leftover junk in it. _I've gotten lucky enough to find this place deserted, now I just need my luck to provide me with a candle and a match. Or even just a piece of flint, since there's plenty of trash for kindling in the alley. _

The youth walked silently over to the aforementioned crate, at first surprised by how silent the floor was-before realizing it was dirt. Digging through its contents, Krin'nal came across a thin sheet and a worn, patched up quilt, as well as a small round pillow. Further down he found a box that appeared to be unopenable, since he couldn't find a matching key, and a tin with some hard-tack biscuits and jerkey in it. Near the bottom of the crate there was a whetstone, a piece of flint, and a leather bag that revealed itself to be carrying a small dagger and a couple of Deku Nuts.

_Well, now, isn't that just handy? I've got everything I need to make myself comfy for quite a while._ The youthful thief's lips slid into his characteristic smirk. Pocketing the dagger, he replaced everything else back into the crate except the flint, which he casually flipped in his hand as he ambled back outside to get some junk kindling. His eyes caught on a shallow metallic washbasin that he could 'borrow' for a fire-pit as he picked up old wood, paper, and cloth scraps to burn. His hands snatched it up on his way back inside his newly acquired shack.

_Life just keeps getting better and better all the time,_ thought the boy as he dozed in the quilt before his merrily burning blaze, _and here I thought my new freedom had come with a price._ Drifting further into the black void of heavy sleep as his the fire in his makeshift hearth died, the inexperienced thief failed to realize that his simplistic life was about to get ten times more complex.

&

There's always a price to pay, and there's always something that must be given up in exchange to gain another thing. Krin'nal's price was coming with the old man who was walking slowly toward the shack in the far end of one of Castle Town's back alleys. Though the man he was about to meet meant him no harm, the old fellow would be the one to set Krin'nal on a path that held both his rise in the underground and his fall from the grace he had once possessed in his past life-forever. Old Getado continued limping slowly towards his home, unable to see the future he was about to set in motion. Krin'nal slept on, caught unawares in the net that fate was weaving around him.

Getado's feet stopped outside the ramshackle place that he called home, as caught his breath and took note of the alley around him. Seeing that there weren't any 'suspicious buggers' in the immediate area, and that nothing seemed out of place about his abode, the man pushed open the fragile door gently, wanting to preserve it for as long as possible. There was no way that he could afford a new door with his living, being a hired blade wasn't easy afterall. The sight that greeted his eyes, however, had the old man forgetting all this as he allowed the door to swing back on its rusty hinges to slam shut in his state of shock.

He'd only been gone a week and his house had apparently been taken over by some street kid. A scrawny, blonde-haired street kid who looked very familiar-the older man hadn't forgotten the look of the cheese thief he'd witnessed earlier. Getado saw that the kid was wrapped up in his old quilt, slouched in front of the embers that were still a little red in their washbasin pit. He also saw that besides the clothes on his small frame the kid appeared to have nothing on him and as far as the hired blade knew, nothing to his name either. Dumbfounded, the old hired blade felt the kid worming his way into his soft heart without any effort-not even a "help me" or "please" was needed. Sighing as he realized he had a long night ahead of him, Getado sunk down into one of his chairs to wait for the strange kid to wake, wondering himself just what he was going to do about this new situation.

Unfortunately for both him and his new roommate, the powers that be just weren't willing to give either of them the time to relax anymore. Getado gulped as he saw the kid stirring, stretching his arms out of the quilt and heard his breathing rate rise. The boy's eyes blinked open suddenly, darting around the room like those of any veteran warrior-or thief for that matter. They focused on the hired blade's rough face, and he knew he was in for a few bumps in his road of life.

"Who the heck are you, old geezer?" The kid jumped up from the floor, the quilt pooling at his spread feet. Getado noticed the stance looked like one a fighter might use, but it wasn't that of a novice.

"Well, kiddo, I'm what ya might consider the owner of this house. Seenin' as how I lived here before you settled in."

"…" The boy was silent, his eyes wide and his jaw slack, attempting to close itself, flopping like the mouth of a fish. Getado sighed, the kid hadn't been expecting that, and if he wasn't mistaken it looked like his new roommate was a bit frightened because of this new twist in his road in life.

"Quit yah gummin' and listen up kiddo, cause I'm only goin' to say this once. I can tell from here that you haven't got a thing but yahself and what ya can put on yahself in this world, and I'd rather not be feelin' guilty for kickin' ya out later. 'Cause o' that, I might be willin' to keep ya up here, if ya can prove yahself worth the trouble." He paused, noting with a strange sense of pride that the intruding kid was solely focused on what Getado was saying to him. It was rare to see a young one with such a good attention span, even rarer to see one that looked like he was using his own head to actually think about the information he was being given-maybe the kid was more than what he looked like.

"Prove myself? What do I need to 'prove mahself' to you for, gramps?" Krin'nal's eyes scrunched up a bit, slanted and slitted dangerously, a testament to his growing mistrust. There was nothing that could make him be a servant to anyone other than himself ever again, and he wasn't about to prove himself to some old man. Proving himself had always led to a destiny of serving the whims of others in his past lives-surely this old man offered nothing different.

"Well, kiddo, I happened to see ya little stunt with the dairy owner today, damned if I've ever seen a thief quiet like yahself before. Ya could make something o' yahself if ya knew where to go to put those skills to the test in the underground, and I could tell ya where to go, assumin' ya prove yahself to me first."

"What's in it for me? I'm fine just how I am, without your so called help."

"I don't doubt it, kiddo, I don't doubt it. But I'm sure ya won't be sayin' that when ya can't feed yahself next time. Gettin' a job in the underground would give ya the cash ya need to survive out here."

"…So what would I need to do for proof?"

"Just show me your skills, again, this old geezer has got to be sure his old eyes weren't foolin' him before."

Hook, line, and sinker. Getado could tell he'd just caught the young thief, even before he'd heard the boy's next words. Not that it mattered much, the boy would probably have found his way into an underground job sooner or later, but it was probably better to break him in this way. The life of a hired blade, or even a thief, it was never an easy thing to get comfortable in, but some ways of falling into it were better than others. Krin'nal could tell he'd just done himself a favor, roping in support and a new piece to his new life all in one fell swoop. Not that it mattered much, the old man probably just gave him the push he needed to get back on track, but it didn't hurt to gain a few allies. The life he'd chosen for himself didn't seem so bad afterall.

"Give me the place, the time, the item, and the rules. I'll do it."

&

Rob the pawnshop on the corner o' Syks and Graf. I don't exactly care what you take a five-fingered discount on, kiddo, just so long as I can see ya steal it from wherever I'm watching. Those had been the last words the old man had exchanged with the budding thief, before preceding him into said pawnshop. Krin'nal was still standing outside it, plotting not his next theft, but what would most impress the old fellow-he was clearly a veteran in underhanded business. Besides, it had been an unspoken understanding that Krin'nal should delay his entry and avoid contact with his first 'employer' so that things didn't look suspicious. Even as a rookie, he knew better than to upset the pending victim-it was always worse when they were jumpy.

_So basically I can do whatever I want in there, take whatever suits me, as long as I don't trip any alarms or alert any witnesses except the old guy._ Twice in less than twenty-four hours that he was going to be using his Goddess-given skills to rob someone. At least this time it wasn't some poor dairy vendor, no, this time it was a pawnshop owner who reputedly had only fine things. According to the old man, whom he'd learned was named Getado, this particular pawn dealer own swapped goods with the nobles-which suited Krin'nal just fine. He'd never be able to live with himself if he was stealing from the common Hylian on the streets, they were in the same situation he had been in, and they didn't deserve to suffer. Figuring that a good quarter of an hour had passed, the prodigy thief walked into the pawnshop on Syks and Graf. _Let's do this, shall we, hands?_

He could see Getado conversing with the pawnbroker, talking about some cheap looking oil lamp if they're hand motions were any indication. The broker looked coolly at the thief when he entered, raising the fingers of his hand slightly off the glass display counter in greeting. _He has no idea what I'm about to do to him. Heh, too easy, _smirked the thief as he strolled to a matching glass display counter. The only difference between the two counters was that the one the old men were leaning on was filled with household items, and this one was filled with what the boy liked to call 'Krin'nalware'-a vast array of swords, throwing knives, daggers, and other weapons of destruction.

Krin'nal perused the display, looking for one he liked, _might as well arm myself with something really good for my new job if I'm going to be stealing anyway._ There were quite a few ornate daggers and swords, but most of them looked a bit gaudy to him, and even though he didn't mind having a weapon that was dazzling in design, he much preferred to have one that was functional. The other thing that kept him away from the ornate weapons was the fact that most of them looked a bit too hard to conceal easily. He needed something impressive, sure, but he also needed something that was readily obtainable to his skillful hands. That obviously limited him to daggers and the smaller throwing weapons, but it didn't limit him other than keeping away from the ones with bulky sheathes and handles. _Not that I'd want anything bulky, it just doesn't work out in battle, too unwieldly._ Krin'nal strolled calmly further along the case, his eyes jumping to a section that was under lock and key. _Those are probably the cream of the crop_, he mused, _and stealing one from there would certainly grab the old guy's attention._

Glancing at the old geezer, the young thief noticed that he and the pawnshop owner had broken off discussing the lamp, and the old guy was now pretending to peruse some other light fixtures. The pawn shop owner was putting the lamp back in its case, being careful with it, probably it was some noble's delicate antique. _Even better_, he smirked, _I can steal myself something right out from under the dealer's nose_. His smirk grew a bit as felt Getado's eyes slip to him, trying to signal him to get a move on with it. _Just chill out, gramps, I'll give you your proof._

"May I help you find something, my boy?" The pawnbroker smiled broadly with his eyes closed, but when he opened them, Krin'nal could see that in their glittering gray-green depths that he was not a kind old gentleman. It only made the prodigy want to steal from him more.

"Actually, I was looking for a dagger for my sister. Her husband's manor is near a shady district in Arryn Town, and she's nervous over it all of her days and nights. I thought it might provide her with a measure of comfort to have a dagger with her little brother's love." Ordinarily the long-winded speech of the nobles made him want to gag, but he wasn't going to lie and say it didn't have its uses. It was no small wonder they controlled everyone else so easily, with the honeyed words they spewed from their mouths. After wasting so much time being controlled by sweet words himself, Krin'nal found an ironic sense of twisted humor in being able to use their speech and mannerisms against them.

"Well, if you're only looking to comfort her, and not actually for something that would need to be used as a weapon, I'd suggest a slim lady's dagger. They're very easily concealed, and they are often beautifully designed." AS he spoke, the elderly pawnbroker had unlocked the case Krin'nal had been hoping to pilfer from, and pulled out a slender dagger with a curved hilt made to look like a lion's head at its pommel. Krin'nal toyed with the idea of stealing it for only a moment, before noting that the sheath wobbled loosely around the blade inside.

"It's a very lovely model sir, but the blade doesn't look like it fits snugly into its fine casing. I'd like to comfort her, but I'd also not like to have her accidentally cut herself on it. Ladies don't really know how to handle weapons."

"Of course. Perhaps a simpler model, something with less intricacy to fumble with, and a better fit into its casing." The man 's hand filtered through an assortment of smaller daggers, bypassing those with ornate but hefty cases and handles, pausing near a half buried dagger that had only the tip of its pale emerald sheath sticking out. "This one is a rather fine make, a family legacy, it was handed over when the Lutilide family lost their status about thirty years ago. Supposedly it was entrusted to them by a guardian sprite that made her home in their garden fountain, though I suspect it was commissioned of a local blacksmith for a daughter." He held the emerald sheathed dagger out to the thief, and Krin'nal knew that this was the blade he wanted for himself. Now al he had to do was snatch into his hands, hands that actually deserved the splendid work. He could feel the old hired blade's eyes on him, so there really wasn't a point in waiting to show off his skills, he just needed to distract the store's creepy owner first.

"That is indeed a fine dagger for a lady such as my sister, it is both a stunning beauty and a practical tool. However, I happened to see one that might suit her wardrobe a little better, she has a great amount of golden and ruby colored dresses, you see. There's a little dagger with a gold chain on its hilt over to the right a tad, its red casing and gold metal trimmings would be the perfect match for her tastes." Krin'nal tilted his hand carelessly towards the dagger he had described, being sure not to look at it, performing the part of a choosy noble son perfectly. _Distraction tactics, they're a good thing_, he thought, saying instead, "I think that I may look over this one whilst you retrieve the other." The dealer nodded solemnly, never suspecting that he was about to get stolen from. Krin'nal hefted the emerald dagger into his left hand, unsheathed it to see that its blade was indeed a fine forge, then swiftly replaced it up to its jeweled hilt and just as quickly placing it into his tunic.

"I'm so to have troubled you like this, sir, but it seems that my coach has come to take me to dinner. We will have to bargain again some other day. Tes keran(1), my friend!" Not sparing either of the old men a glance, the boy thief swept out the door with as much regal bearing as he could put into his step without gagging himself. _Like I said, too easy._

Ambling slowly down Syks Avenue, the prodigy could tell he had been followed out of the store by Getado, the old hired blade that had 'employed' him. A smirk appeared on his face when he turned around to see the man looking at him like a strange creature, eyes bugging out slightly, and a muscle twitching near his jaw.

"Impressed yet, old geezer? Or do you think your eyes fooled you again?"

"…Ay, kiddo, I'm impressed with ya. If ya can keep up a skill, nay a blessin', like that, I'd be happy to point ya over to the right place to get underground work."

"Well, then, why don't we head over to this special place? I think I'd like to get started right away."

The recovering old man nodded stiffly, still a bit shocked by the prodigy he had with him. They continued down the street, turning into the alleys as soon as possible, and twisting through them until they reached a doorway with an intricate wooden sign over it that read 'Chaste Chasm'. Krin'nal wavered as they approached the doorway to the establishment, he'd never been in a bar before, much less one in the back alleys-he'd heard they were much worse.

"Ya comin' or not, kiddo? My buddy won't want to deal with ya once his business opens." Getado held the door ajar, seeing the kid look truly hesitant for the first time. The kid, in response, steeled his courage and walked through the door into the next stage of his life.

&

"We're closed still, can't you read!" A disembodied, disgruntled voice filtered to the young Krin'nal's ears, which turned a little red in responsive embarrassment and a touch of indignation.

"O' course I can read Vern! I just thought I'd stop by and pester ya some more afore another day went out! 'Sides, I got someone with me that might interest ya!" Getado didn't seem fazed by the voice that had greeted the pair when they'd entered. The fact helped bolster the bravado of the boy next to him, but not enough to keep him from starting when the voice came again, this time from directly in front of them. It belong to a very short man, who although he looked a bit ticked, was actually happy to see Getado, from the mirth in his eyes.

"Have kids, did you, old friend? I almost don't want to ask."

"Nah, 'tis not my kid. This here is that little thief I was tellin' ya about yesterday. Found him in my own shack earlier today."

"Really? That's a heck of a coincidence." Vern's eyes shifted over to the boy next to Getado. "So you're really a prodigy thief, kid?" He watched the kid swallow hard, his eyebrow quirking up in humor.

"Y-yeah, I'm pretty good with my hands. I-I'm no r-rookie, shorty." It was both admirable and humorous to the two old friends how much the boy stuttered, even as he put on his game face and tried to sound sure of himself.

"Well, then, welcome to the underground kid, but first, welcome to Chaste Chasm. I own this place, if you couldn't tell, and I hand out jobs here to all types of men for hire. Thieves, assassins, jacks-of-all-trades, but mostly just the average hired blade like Getado here."

"…Okay. What do I have to do next?"

"Next? Next you gotta learn that you can't stutter like that or get all shy in front of anyone else you meet in this line of work, because it's a weakness they'll exploit. Kinda like they'll exploit the fact that you're a kid still. No problem there though, we'll just cover you up with a cloak or something." Getado nodded, seeing his new charge relax with his new surroundings, the kid would be just fine in the underground, as adaptable as he was to change. Vern muttered something about asking the missus for a cloak though, and the hired blade blanched a bit. Krin'nal just managed to hide his confusion, knowing he'd get an answer soon enough.

"Vern says there's a person here that needs a simple disguise…merciful Goddesses, a poor little child! What in the names of the Golden Ladies are you doing bringing a boy child like that in here, Getado!" The 'poor little child' got his answer all right, complete with Wresta's incessant but well-meant mothering. Vern came back in the room at the sound of her voice, only to see his blade buddy hunched over moodily at a corner table, grumbling about crazed, overprotective mother hens.

Wresta was nowhere to be seen but her voice drifted over from a corner closet, "I just know that I put those pants in here somewhere…ah, there they are! Deary me, I hope they won't be to big on him, the poor little boy looks like a rail, he's so skinny and small! Now, let's see here, these pants are thick enough to keep a chill off his legs, but that tunic of his is too old and raggedy to keep him warm, so he'll need a new one, and then a cloak for those extra chilly nights…" His wife's voice trailed off, chronicling her motherly search. The boy looked a bit shell-shocked from where he still sat on a barstool. Vern chuckled to himself at the strange scene in his tavern, life was certainly going to be more interesting with Krin'nal around, if nothing else. He slapped the 'poor child' heartily on the back as he passed him on the way to console his old friend.

"Yah wife is a right demon, did ya know that Vern? Knocked me off o' my seat to get to that little runt and coddle him, the devil woman."

"Wresta means well, my friend, besides she's never had any children of her own to 'coddle'. You know that."

"Ay, but she didn't have to knock me flat on my backside. I'm not so young as I used to be."

"None of us are, my friend, but at least we're all still alive and healthy, right? Speaking of which, have a shot of this new one, it might cheer you up." Vern filled two shot glasses with a amber liquid flecked with ruby, raising his in a toast to their good health and good luck for their futures, watching Wresta come back down the stairs to grab Krin'nal and haul him off to change out of his 'raggedy tunic'. Getado raised his as well, not really able to pity the boy he'd brought here, still sour over being knocked around by an old matron for his aid to said boy. Both men chuckled though, hearing the boy get smothered with affection by Wresta from behind the stage.

"I don't envy the kiddo, ya know that Vern?"

"Neither do I, Getado, neither do I." The two old friends both downed their shots, wiping their mouths simultaneously as Wresta came fussing back into the room, pushing Krin'nal in front of her.

"Well, I've done the best I can, but really Getado, the boy could use some better clothes, he's still just a small thing. Vern, honey, I don't think the pants fit him snugly across the hips, but they were the smallest pair I could find. Do you think they're good enough? And the cloak's a tad bit too long, you don't think he'll trip, do you?"

"No dear, he'll be fine. The pants are fine too, honey, so don't worry about it."

"Ay, he's a growing one, that kiddo, he'll fit into them pants soon enough."

Silence reigned as Wresta smoothed out the boy's sunny hair with her hand, and the two men relaxed from having to placate her over-developed sense of motherhood. None of the three of them had been expecting the boy to say anything, but none of them were too shocked when he did.

"I'm not a child, you know. I can take care of myself."

&Flashforward&

"I'm not a child you know, Vern. I've been taking care of myself for a while now. Speaking of which, have you got a job for me or not?" Krin'nal, the thirteen year old prodigy thief, sat opposite one of the few people he'd ever let help him. Vern looked back across at the boy he and his wife had watched over for so long after Getado had first introduced them, wondering if he should let the kid take the only mission he'd heard about in the boy's line of work. The boy was right, he wasn't child, and maybe it was time to let him spread his wings and fly out on his own-they'd all still be there to catch him anyway.

"Well, kid, I have got one job, but the only details I can give is that the employer wants to give you the actual job himself. All I'm supposed to do is send him a man for hire."

"Sounds like fun. I suppose I get his name and address then? Maybe I can scare the crap out of him when I show up for my job briefing."

"Maybe, but I doubt it. The guy doesn't seem like your regular rich pushover." Krin'nal digested this information slowly, fingering a emerald dagger with a jeweled hilt and sheath. Vern recognized it as the one Getado had let the boy steal for proof three years ago, as he watched the thief process the details he already had.

_A rich employer, but not a stupid one, huh? That adds to my list of strange things that I've seen in this world, for one thing. It also makes me curious, because last time I was there-and I would know-there weren't very many nobles that weren't the least bit stupid or cowardly. I should probably take the mission, just to see who this person is…they must have something really good on the line._

"Well? The guy's probably waiting for a competent thief, and I know you don't want some second-rater taking a job like this."

"True. Give me the address of this guy, Vern. I'd like to show him how prompt I can be, by getting there tonight, and starting my new job ASAP." Vern nodded, signaling for Krin'nal to come with him to the back of the tavern, where there was privacy to talk about jobs that employers wanted secret. _And that_, the boy thief thought, _makes this even more interesting than it already was_. He followed the barkeep into the back, the light growing dimmer as he went to get the details for this very curious, mysterious employer. _Heh, yep, this will doubtlessly be interesting, if nothing else._

&

**Fuyuko: Oh look, another cliffhanger. Sorry again, but this chapter was getting too long compared to the others. Then again, it probably makes you all happy since it was so late to begin with…I had too much stuff going on after I got back, seriously. At any rate, that's the end of the flashback, hope it wasn't too confusing. It was never fully beta'd because my beta-DarkFoxx, a.k.a. Foxxkun-didn't want to read it before I posted it. So if you see any glaring errors, grammar or otherwise, just let me know, okay, and I'll try to get them fixed. **

**(1)Oh! And as to the "Tes keran" thing, I thought the Hylian nobility needed to have their own little snobbish way of separating themselves from the common people by speaking 'Ancient/Old Hylian'. "Tes keran" is kind of like saying "until we meet again". Purely an experiment on my part, so let me know what you thought.**

**Krin'nal: Since this one took so long, does that mean I don't get a break between the next chapter and this one? Or are you not going to be sadistic and let me have a rest again? **

**Fuyuko: Depends. Right now, since you're being uncommonly nice, you might get a break, but it's really up to the readers and how much they want to get to the next chapter. And from the looks of things, you're screwed, little thief.**

**Readers: More Story! More Story! No Breaks for Characters! marching around with signs and pitchforks.**

**Krin'nal: (whimper) Help me, please! I never did anything to deserve this level of abuse!**

**Fuyuko…Okay, now I know there's something wrong with him. Too bad Mr. Hamster isn't here to fix it. I'm beginning to think he's not coming back from his so-called vacation. Oh, and once again, thank you to all my reviewers: E1pnvn, Master of Reality, and Greki. Thanks to Foxxkun for beta-ing and for telling me nicely to get my butt back in this chair to type.**

**Read and Review or be Forced to Hunt for Mr. Hamster!**


	4. Snebusis

**Fuyuko: Back again with Chapter Three! Or Four if you're going according to little numbers, but the point is that the next chapter is out! Be Happy! Go Sing and Dance in the streets proclaiming your joy! Since I got back to it a bit reluctantly, this one might be a little shorter than the last one, but I don't know that for sure, seeing as how Mr. Hamster isn't here to help my little brain run properly. On a more related note, I hope you're all enjoying the fic so far, and that the mass of characters and relationships isn't confusing or boring, because we'll finally be starting the plot for this story.**

**Krin'nal: … You mean the rest of that was just filler? It had nothing to do with anything?**

**Fuyuko: No, it had a purpose too, but from here on out we will be getting into the major conflict of the plotline, at least on one level. The other conflict level is that of the conflict within a certain thief who shall remain nameless (cough) you know who I mean (cough) and the race to find out who he really is by the other people in this story. **

**Krin'nal: …You make me sound like I have amnesia or something. I thought I was supposed to be secretive and shadowy.**

**Fuyuko: You are. But you're also running away from yourself, and…well, everyone'll see by the end of the fic! (smile) With that said, let us move onto Disclaimer-Bot and the next chapter of Anagram: Snebusis! Take it away my bot friend!**

**Readers and Krin'nal: …You're cruel.**

**Disclaimer-Bot: Excuse me. (silence) Thank you. The author, Fuyuko, has programmed e to tell you that she does not own The Legend of Zelda or any of its inclusive component materials. She has also programmed me to tell you that she does own Krin'nal and any other original characters or names. On behalf of the entire Anagram cast and myself please enjoy the fiction. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.**

**&**

**Anagram-Snebusis**

"The way I saw things, to live with the world meant to give up your freedom to live as you want. To 'die' meant to slip through those clutches and obtain your own life." – Krin'nal to Zelda

&

Krin'nal and Vern slid into the private back room in silence, where the thief sat in a low scooped out chair while he waited for the underground informant to return with the employer's instructions and limited personal data. The small room was rather dim; making the discernment of details a difficult task indeed. A second low, scooped out, almost bowl-like chair could be seen across from the one that was already occupied, and between them was a thick woven rug that had a long, slim table astride it. Like the chairs, the table was also low to the ground, with an oil-lamp in its middle that barely illuminated the tips of Krin'nal's black leather boots, giving the room very little practical lighting. All in all, the private briefing room that was secluded in the back of the Chaste Chasm did a marvelous job of being an obscure, secretive place for darker deals to be finalized.

_Creepy. I'd have never thought a place like this could even exist in this time, much less that it would be in an establishment like Chaste Chasm. Makes me wonder how deep Vern's underground connections go._ Krin'nal knew that Getado's old blade buddy form the Unification War had quite a network of alliances and arm-twists that he could use at any time, but it had never really crossed his mind before to think exactly how deep those threads ran, or how Vern had even acquired most of them in the first place. _Then again, I probably don't want to know. I wonder how much Wresta knows, I mean they seem like they're pretty tight-knit. And they run the tavern together, so I wonder how much of a hand she has in his underground business._ As the thought crossed his mind, the young thief could feel himself snicker with the image of the pushy matron twisting the arm of some rogue to get information about a job out of him.

"What are you giggling about? You aren't a schoolgirl, and this isn't a field trip, kid. Speaking of school, maybe I ought to turn you over to the Children's Protection and Correction Agency to get some schooling and smacking. You probably could stand to learn your numbers and letters, so you'll know if someone ever gets your number."

"No, that's quite alright, Vern, I've known my 'numbers and letters', as you call them, for quite some time. Just because Getado's stupid doesn't mean I am." Kicking his feet up onto the lamp-lit table, the thief smirked at his dry humor, knowing he was pushing his friend's temper, and jumping for the chance to watch the man's face get comical in his anger. Vern, however, decided to blow off some steam by whacking the brat's feet off of the table and smiling tightly. He seated himself in the chair opposite his young friend, tossing a thick, folded up parchment at the kid with a little more force than necessary. Krin'nal caught it deftly, and clucked indignantly at the older man's treatment of him.

"So I take it this is my little assignment sheet? Doesn't look like much. Here I was getting all excited about a big job and it turns out to not even be enough for one sheet of parchment!" He clucked his tongue again, wearing an expression of deepest sorrow, yet unable to hide the twinkle of sarcastic mirth in his blue eyes.

Vern rolled his own eyes at the kid's behaviour, seeing through the charade of arrogance to the fact that Krin'nal really was concerned with his new mission. "Sometimes, kid, I think you've got a screw loose between your ears. 'Course, that's a far sight better than what Getado probably tells you."

"No kidding. He tells me 'I'm a deranged kiddo, sick in mah head, an' I need to see a doctah', full quote. But I know you're both wrong because if I was crazy, I'd know it because I'd think I was sane, instead of thinking I'm crazy like I do now." The grin on the thief's face was one of utmost annoyance to Vern, who really hated the little logic puzzles the kid was so fond of spewing out. It was just one more of the infamous young thief's trademark traits that kept him hidden from others and one of the things that had inspired him to start using the nickname 'Anagram' as his calling card.

Having looked over the parchment with the beginnings of his newly acquired job on it, Krin'nal stood to leave the secluded meeting room at the back of the Chaste Chasm. Vern slowly got to his feet as well, motioning for the boy to wait for him to leave first, to come out only after a delay. When the thief finally did follow him out, it was to be greeted by the raucous manner of the Chaste Chasm in full swing. Stopping just short of the curtained off entryway back into the main hall, Krin'nal absorbed his surroundings-the music from a live band pounded in his sensitive ears, the flashes of bright colors from different lights across the room blinded his acute vision with multi-colored stars, and the stench of gallons of alcohol combined with countless cigars plus the sweat of the crowds burned at his nose. All-in-all, it was a little bit too much for him to take in so rapidly and suddenly, making the poor youth almost nauseous. _Ugh, I can't believe people actually call this 'party-time' and 'happy-hour', it's revolting. The smells alone should be considered a crime._ Looking around for Vern, the boy couldn't see him anywhere, but he could see the missus standing by the back door, looking work-worn. _Thank Nayru! I'm so outta this place!_

The thief made a beeline for Wresta, pushing and shoving through the crowd of people that stood between him and his quickest exit. Dodging a pair of drunk Hylians with swords at their hips and their lady companions on their laps, the boy rounded another table before running smack into one of the girls. She turned around, looking sultry at first then bewildered by the fact that there wasn't a customer, before she finally spotted him on the ground. She gave the thief a wry grin as he stood up, dusting off the seat of his pants.

"Better pull your hood up, Krin'nal, there's a lot of folks here tonight that don't need to see your cute little face."

"Thanks Perilli, at least I think. I'm not cute or little, y'know." Slightly miffed at being called his least two favorite things-cute and little-the thief barely mumbled off an apology for bumping into Perilli before leaving the girl to head over to the back doorway. Skirting a few more obstacles, he finally managed to get over to his destination, sighing heavily as he sank into a corner barstool. Wresta gave him a sympathetic, kindly smile as he did so, and unable to resist mothering him in some way, she pulled the cowl he had donned up higher over his face.

"Careful now, child, you don't want to be getting seen by the wrong eyes. Goddesses' know a poor little thing like you shouldn't have to be in a place like this! And at this hour too! Heavens no, a child like you should be in his bed by now, tucked away and dreaming under a thick patchwork quilt." The matron of the Chaste Cavern worried over her self-adopted charge, wringing her hands in lieu of being able to smooth out the boy's hair. The boy himself quietly steamed at being fussed over like a helpless child, but knowing he'd feel guilty about yelling at Wresta; …_Afterall, she's almost like the mother I never had. I just wish she knew how to let me grow up and do my own thing…she knows I'm not helpless._ Krin'nal slid off the chair, deciding that there really wasn't a better time to be leaving for his next job.

"I'm going now, Missus Wresta. I'll come back later if I get the chance."

"Going to a job? At this hour? Krin'nal, child, you're too young to work yourself so harshly. Sit back down and have a cup of warm milk." The gentle coaxing reproach of the missus fell on thin air, however, as Krin'nal himself was already gone.

&

Krin'nal had always known that Hyrule Castle Town had two kinds of people living in it-those who retreated into their cozy homes after the eighth zenith and those who went searching for a cozy seat in a tavern in the dusk hours. Having never before really been 'out on the town' at this time of night, however, meant that he had never really realized just how empty the streets of Hyrule Castle Town got. Aside from the random drunk, or a laughing group of friends - _Heh, more like groups of bar-hoppers –_ the normally bustling cobblestone avenues and lanes of the town were as deserted as a desert. Not that Krin'nal minded. _I'm no fan of the crowds that are usually swarming all over this place, and anyways, its just that much easier to hurry along through the shadows now. _

Slipping silently and unseen past a guard-who would probably have tried to take him 'home' for breaking curfew if nothing else-he made his way into the nicer district of the town that laid in the shadow of the grand Castle of Hyrule itself. There were more guards in this part of town, especially near the well-groomed and often gated villas belonging to such and such nobleman or so and so lordship. Fortunately for the young thief, most of these people kept themselves locked away in their ritzy houses after sundown, taking most of their guards with them for 'necessary' protection. _Fat lot of good it does them though, any decent undergrounder can get by those lame-o guards without even breaking a sweat._ The thief smirked at that, knowing all too well that the only protection the run of the mill guards offered was meaningless words. The cream of the crop-_assuming that you believe there is such a thing in that lot_-were kept as guards up at Castle Hyrule, since its fortified walls often did little to deter unwanted guests like Krin'nal.

Glancing at the number he'd scrawled onto his own arm from the paper Vern had given him, the youth scanned the numbers on the increasingly fancier houses around him. He'd forgone keeping papers from missions a long time ago, since the risk of the information falling into the wrong hands and being used against him was too much of a gamble, even for his level of daring. Granted, inking the onto his own arm probably didn't seem much better, but at least he wasn't going to just up and drop his arm where anybody could see what was written on it. Besides, it wasn't like the ink he used was permanent. _Yeah, there's the real reason I carry a flask of water, definitely use my water reserve for washing over drinking, _thought the thief sarcastically as he slid further down the darkened alleyways of the deserted town.

Silently, though, Krin'nal admitted that he didn't think that deeply about things like how to use supplies, it was mostly all out of habit and gut instinct. Carrying a flask of water, however small, was a force of habit that he'd picked up very early on in his willy-nilly first life, and as it was practical it was one of the few things he hadn't shucked from his past. _Hnf, and Getado still claims that I'm the most 'cloud-headed, bumbling, unprepared idiot' he's ever met!_ It seemed to Krin'nal that he and Getado were always butting heads over 'the method to the madness' in carrying out underground jobs. But of course, being the one with a young brain, full of ingenuity, he was never wrong- _Afterall, what's he know about what I need to do to finish a job, the senile old geezer probably doesn't even remember how to buckle boots!_

Crossing silently under a string of unlit festival lanterns, the youthful thief had his grumbly thoughts shaken from him as the child that he tried so hard to hide looked with typical wonder and curiosity at the carnival that had been setup in town. I hadn't known there was a festival here…maybe it's just a traveling troupe that likes to hold a small show here to relax the people, and make the kids smile. A slight frown marred the boy's features as he realized that he really hadn't heard anything, he'd been too busy lately trying to provide for himself in the rough underground that he hadn't been 'up to the surface'. It was a term that many undergrounders, especially those that had more normal lives and in a few cases, families, used to describe a return to 'normal' life-life during the day and the light, instead of under night's watch and in shadow. Krin'nal had experienced very little of what passed for normal Hyrulian life, having barely had any idea that there was life outside his childhood village during his first life until he had been forced out into the normal Hyrulian world. By the time that he had a good grasp on who he was and what typical life was like, Krin'nal had been too busy with his 'duties'-_At least that's what my 'tamers' wanted me to think they were. _After he had escaped from the grip of his 'tamers' the first time, Krin'nal had gotten a small savoring of what the average Hyrulian did. _…Minus the getting arrested for stealing when I got back from my, uh, 'soul-seeking' journey, the thing that took a huge bite out of my very short second life, that is. _In his most recent past life, Krin'nal had been cooped up by those he despised the most, and made to live accordingly to their petty, backwards, restrictive rules. _I am so glad I got out of that one, it sucked something major. Surprised it didn't suck the life right out of me-it was definitely driving me abso-frickin-lutely nuts! _

Having meandered wistfully through the festival area, Krin'nal came upon a series of streets that were better lit, where the cobblestone looked grander, and which were lined with houses and buildings that displayed the opulent lifestyle of the revetie-Ylianas (1) perfectly. Krin'nal made a gagging noise, and couldn't refrain from childishly making a rude hand gesture at the closest set of buildings, though he didn't recognize any of the houses or the insignias embossed in glittering, grandiose, gold plates above the gated courtyard entryways_. They're all the same, so shallow and useless, lazy and overstuffed on their own egos-they can't even get up to get a glass of water for themselves._ That thought struck Krin'nal with an odd, crazy idea as he walked boldly down the pristine lanes, _…If the servants all went into a revolt, what would those stuffy nobles do? I bet they'd just sit around and bitch and moan about their 'sad, cruel, miserable lives being slighted by those they loved and trusted above even their own children'. Pfft. Yeah, and I'm a Great Fairy._

At the very end of a row of these grand houses stood a tailor's store which claimed to have be under the management of the former master tailor at Hyrule Castle itself. Whether this was true or not, the youth didn't know or sure, but he did know that it had been included in the meager directions he'd been given by his new employer. He was to turn down the avenue it stood on the corner of, then follow that path until he came to a circle with a fountain of the First Queen of Hyrule in its centre. From his arrival point facing Queen Zereldina's back (for her statue had been built so that it faced the west, and her sister's kingdom, Calatia), the thief had been directed to go to the right side of the stone lady and proceed down the wide street he would then be able to see. Krin'nal's employer's last directive was to come to the house with the number 73591 above its courtyard gate and to not be seen coming into the noble's home, which was a roundabout way of telling Krin'nal not to come barging through the aforementioned gate. _Like I would ever do something as stupid as coming in through the main door. No good thief does that! _

Having come to stand under the very same gate he was just thinking of, the thief compared the numbers on his arm and the numbers on the gilded, gem-studded, vaulted archway that soared above his head. Unless he was blind and in need of the schooling Vern thought he was, the two sets of numbers were twins, and all he had to do now was a make himself known. _Preferably in a grand entrance that would both display my mad skillz and scare the living crap out of my employer. _Unfortunately for him, the current residence of his noble employer had high, perfectly molded together, polished Marudstone (2) walls around his grounds. Krin'nal knew from past experience that these were totally impossible to scale by hand, and nearly so even with a hookshot or grappling hook. _The damn stuff is bad enough in a rough state, all slippery and slick and impossible to make handholds in; it's an outright bitch when it's fricking polished!_, grumbling and grudgingly giving up on the whole idea of scaling the court walls to slip inside, Krin'nal proceeded around the perimter of the nobleman's house-his eyes examining every nook and cranny as a viable entry point.

The progress this search yielded to him, however, was not impressive and the whole ordeal was beginning to frustrate the young undergrounder. He hated missions that started out cryptic on all counts, primarily because they were too much hassle, and secondly because they reminded him way too much of his early 'quests' for them to be in his comfort zone. He also hated nobles who thought that they could pull this kind of frustrating, ridiculous, and controlling crap on the people that worked for them just to say that they were in charge and that they could expose a hired man for being 'impertinent'. Didn't they realize it worked both ways? _It's not like their hands are clean either, they're breaking the law too, and they're only doing it out of greed. None of them have to stoop down and work like a dog for others just to put food on their plates._ Krin'nal was now determined to make his grand entrance, and maybe the Golden Ladies were on his side, because unless his eyes were a pair of tricksters, that sewer led right underneath the seemingly impermeable nobleman's house.

&

Exhaling as quietly as was possible in his current state, Krin'nal pressed himself further up against the dead end wall of the sewer-_Nayru's mercy am I glad to be out of that stinking swine-pit! Eurgh, I still feel like retching from the smells, I can't possibly imagine what I might have been walking through…Ew. I don't even want to think about that. _Craning his head away from the wall, Krin'nal just barely managed to see up through the grate that separated him from what was presumably the kitchen. Hopefully it wasn't because if there was one place that he was certain did not rest in the houses of the rich, it was the kitchen. There was always someone in there, either filching a midnight snack or spending six hours cooking one of those overly grand meals the nobles stuffed down their throats in less than an forty-five minutes.

Peeling himself away from the wall and steeling his nerves, the thief slowly paced his way under the grate and looked up. He hadn't heard too much noise while he was at the wall, and he couldn't see anyone in the immediate area of the grate_…Maybe it's not the kitchen. Maybe it's really big and the cooks or whoever are all on the other side of the room. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm stalling over nothing. Rrgh, I'm just going through here and if anybody has anything to say about it then I'll shut them up! _His hands reached up, slowly gripping the metal shafts. He pulled lightly on them, testing their strength. _Loose, but not loose enough to shift without a sound. I'll have to oil the edges_, acknowledged the thief as he blinked to keep falling bits of rust out of his eyes. Going into a small satchel at his right hip, Krin'nal pulled out an even smaller vial of his own homemade lockpicker's oil, and began applying it to the grate's edges. He used the stuff that could be bought from an underground supplier as a base, but having found over time that it wasn't always strong enough, he'd played around with a few additions of his own until the brew satisfied his needs. Replacing his tool, Krin'nal once again wrapped his hands around a couple of the shafts. He listened quietly again for a short time that seemed to stretch far longer than it really did. The thief didn't hear the barest peep and he didn't dare look. It was now or it was never, and he would go on from whatever came next. He slid the grate up, pleased with its silence, and his body followed it up into the normal world.

Having emerged from the sewer unscathed at last, Krin'nal spared the room a parting glance to confirm that it was indeed the kitchen as he ran silently out the closest exit, reappearing in an damp torch-lit hallway, that looked pretty neglected. He was probably underground still, and since the nobility liked to roost in fancied up towers like magpies, it meant he had a long way to go 'til he reached his employer. _Fair enough_, shrugged the thief as he slunk along the shadowed, mildewed wall, _It's just one more strike against him._ Apparently, though, Krin'nal trip through the noble's home wasn't going to be such a cakewalk, as he could hear a guard clanking around up ahead, probably at the foot of the only staircase up. Krin'nal snorted. _Since when has one stupid guard stopped me?_ He crept towards the suit of armor at the end of the hall, crouching down when he heard another guard clanking around. _…That might complicate things. One I can handle…but the stupidity from two might just be an x-factor in annoyance for them._ The clanking stopped, and the whistling of the first guard came to a slow halt, as Krin'nal pricked up his ears to do some spying.

"Sir. I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary here."

"Good. Keep your eyes peeled though for Lord Res'Tauvel's 'guest'. We were told to pick him up if we caught wind of him."

"Why sir? I mean, didn't the Lord invite him here?"

"…That's true. But I guess it's like a game of cat and mouse. If the little street mouse it's good enough to get past us and to the 'big cheese' here, there's no need to keep him employed to do the real work." There was something about the way this guard spoke that gave Krin'nal an uneasy tremor. The guy was definitely not a slack-off, and he was certainly the heavy of Lord What's-His-Face. Thankfully, he must have only been dropping in for a routine checkup, because the clanking resumed, and the first guard could be heard to sigh and sink into a more relaxed position, now that his commander was out of sight.

_Time to make my move around this pawn_. As this thought flared up in Krin'nal's mind, he whipped around the suit of armor and dashed for the unsuspecting guard. The man started at the rapid pattering of feet across the floor, rising from the chair he'd been in. Krin'nal was faster. The agile thief used his velocity to help him ram the guard solidly in the midsection with his shoulder. To make sure it was done properly, he went down with the guard, the rolled to sit on the man's chest, cutting off his air at the throat, suffocating him just enough by hand to knock the guard cold. The guard didn't even have a chance to raise his spear before he followed had it to the floor in the attack. _One guard less to bother with, and a merry jaunt through this place is now in order._

Like a shadow, Krin'nal swept silently up the stairs that hadn't been too well guarded, hoping to avoid any further obstacles. Passing by the first door he came to, Krin'nal wished he'd ducked into it temporarily as he picked up the sounds of two more guards talking at the next landing-the second floor-although it sounded like they were distracted by some maids. The men were talking in low tones, so he couldn't pick up what they were saying, but it was probably not something he wanted to know about, since the sounds of a washroom could also be heard. Most likely the pair of idiots were peeping on the maids cleaning clothing and themselves simultaneously. Coming in sight of them, Krin'nal took on a tomato hue as he could see that they weren't peeping so much as they were getting a show. _EwEwEw! That is just so nasty! I can't believe they get away with that kinda thing while they're on duty! And with the maids? There is something so weird about that, even though it does seem kinda normal too. Weird. _He stayed belly down on the stairs for a few more seconds, analyzing just how risky it would be to try and sneak behind the distracted guards. Fortunately for him, the guards must have decided they want to do some 'washing' too, because when he craned his head over the top step to look again, they were gone, and the door had just squeaked shut.

Shaking his head at the ridiculous situation, and the ignorance of royal security, Krin'nal made his way up to the landing on the second floor, and proceeded down the long hallway. During his 'merry jaunt' through this part of the manor, Krin'nal became increasingly aware of a rise in the finery around him. _Must mean I'm getting warmer. Heh. I'll shock the pants off this guy, just wait._ However, it seemed that the manor had an upper level that was like a maze, because after following the hall's twists and turns for what felt like forever, the thief was now faced with the old 'pick a door and hope's it's the right one' scenario. _…There's another thing not to like about this guy and his home. _Sighing, the youth walked around by each door, pausing at each to listen beyond it for anything that might give him a clue. At the third door he came to, his eyes gave him that clue, as he noticed that it had intricate designs on its hinges and knob, one of which was the seal that had been on the folded parchment Vern had handed him. Heh. Jackpot. Not so crafty are you, Lord Whoever-You-Are? Cracking the door, he peered around to ensure that his ears had not decieved him about the next chamber's emptiness, then slipped in, one step closer to his goal.

&

_Why does there have to be a procession of guards right now?_ Fumed Krin'nal as he hunkered down behind a gaudy faux gold statue of the Goddesses in the upstairs entry hall. The chamber he'd entered from the many-doored room had indeed been empty, so he'd assumed the floor was private and deserted. Big mistake, grumbled the hidden thief in his head, I should have known security dotls would be up here, guarding the big Lord Pain-in-the-Ass. What really had the youth angry, however, was the fact that he'd been in sight of the ornate curtain that acted as a doorway for the polished and rugged Marudstone stairs at the rounded end of the hallway. They definitely led up to the aforementioned employer, and Krin'nal would have been well on his way to scaring the big idiot, _But nooo, that would have been too simple and too nice a thing to give to poor me. I swear, sometimes, I think someone up there just finds my life to be hilarious like this. Rrgh._

The guards were clearly not going to be leaving anytime soon, either, which meant two things in Krin'nals mind. _A.) They're looking for me, and B.) I'm going to have to get by them, or go through them. Not fun._ Steeling himself, Krin'nal poked his head the barest of amounts around the cheap statue, trying to get a good idea of what he was inevitably going to have to deal with. Huddling back up again, and reviewing the statistics, he slid a slender dagger out of its emerald sheath, thinking deeply as he twirled it. He stood up and replaced it suddenly, not bothering to cover-up the small 'shink' noise it made. It was time to do or die. Fly or fall. And he wasn't going to get caught like a common rogue, because now, he was just pissed off and wanted to give that revetie-Ylianas bastard a piece of his mind.

As if they were of one mind, both the thief and the guards came towards each other at once, the former with only his dagger and a small pouch clutched tightly in his hands. His opponents all carried spears at the ready, and a few had swords at their hips. The first guard reached the boy and tried to run his shoulder through, but being small was an advantage for Krin'nal right then, as the guard's spear overshot him and got stuck in the shoulder of one sneaking up behind the boy instead. The sneak attacker fell to his knees, clutching his wounded arm and crying out, in exactly the same moment that the first was knocked flat by a sweep kick from the boy. Stepping carelessly on the man's arm, Krin'nal clashed blades with the third guard in the room, who'd decided his sword was a better option for such a pipsqueak opponent. The last two guards came at him from either side, spears raised to stab him as soon as the two swordsmen parted. Seeing this, Krin'nal pulled out his trump card. As he whirled to dodge a thrust from his immediate aggressor, he slit open the small sack in his other hand. Still twisting away, a slate-gray powder (3) filled the air as the bag was whipped around, and it's contents emptied. The guard with the sword was hit directly in the face with some of the powder, and blinked to clear his eyes and find the boy he'd just been battling. But his vision was getting a bit fuzzy, and his limbs felt heavy, and he couldn't seem to fight that odd sensation of falling to the ground. Everything went black for him. His companions saw this and tried not to breathe in the powder, but it wasn't going to help them now. They too sank to the floor, leaving only Krin'nal standing, his hood pulled tight around his mouth and nose.

_I may have been hit with small amounts of that stuff when I was little and living in the wild, but I'm still not crazy enough to risk breathing it like this. Boconfer pollen (3) is nasty stuff; it'll knock out a grown man in seconds if it's inhaled from too close._ Krin'nal walked across the unconscious security, stepping on a few limbs as he proceeded towards the curtained doorway. It was past time to have paid a friendly visit to his latest employer, and he never like to keep a client waiting. Besides, they had a lot of important details to work out… _Like how I don't appreciate his stupid little welcoming party. Crashing it was fun, but not something I want to have as a normal part of business. _

&

"So I see you made it up here. And without an escort of guards. You must be a clever one."

"Your guards weren't too tough. But, yeah, I am a 'clever one'."

"But not clever enough to sneak up on me. I know how your kind works, though, so don't feel too badly about having your grandiose entrance foiled." Lord Res'Tauvel turned from the stained glass window he'd been examining, calmly folding his hands over his crossed legs, and examining the slight thief before him. Similarly, Krin'nal narrowed his eyes and examined everything around him and the lord. His eyes picked up on a pair of boot soles hidden behind a tapestry-no doubt the chief guard from earlier. Doesn't matter. I've gotten this far, and I'm not scared of the rich dude's stupid hand-fed dog.

"Time's wasting, o rich one. So unless you think you can learn something about me by staring at me, you'd better get on with the job debriefing. I like to get my work done and out of the way, swiftly."

"Before dinner time, perhaps? You don't seem to have been a member of this world for very long."

Krin'nal decided this man was definitely not his favorite employer, since he was, true to Vern's words, not a stupid or skittish nobleman. Which made dealing with him way too much hassle, and certainly was not enjoyable for the young thief. _Besides, his smile is all wrong. It's twisted, and it gives me the creeps. It's like he knows everything, has all the cards, and is just waiting to see when and where to play them. _

"I'm not young enough to try and get money that won't come easy, …your grace."

"I didn't say you were inexperienced. On the contrary, since you wouldn't have made it here if you were lacking skills or intellect." Lord Res'Tauvel unfolded his hands slowly, and stood up even slower, an action Krin'nal recognized as an attempt at intimidation. He sneered. _It's not gonna work that way, you rich bastard._

"But I understand you urgency, and quite frankly, I'm pleased with it. An eager, willing aid, is always the best, in my opinion. As such, I will have Karuse show you the most expedient way out in a moment." Upon these words, the boots moved out from behind the tapestry, revealing that Krin'nal had been right about who they belonged to.

"I want you, my dear little thief, to grab me a special…artifact…from the royal vaults. You see, I've been told there is a certain magical shield which reflects what is in the hearts of men as well as repelling evil sorcery in there, and I find myself wanting such a valuable thing for my own private collections. One never knows, when they will need a special shield like that." As the lord turned to face the window once more, Karuse came forward, and dragged the now fully employed thief out the door and out of the manor.

**&**

**(1) The revetie-Ylianas thing is another one of those fancy-schmancy nobility only words I made up, literally meaning "most revered of the Hylians". **

**(2) Marudstone is a type of stone similar to marble, but with a mostly solid looking blue color to it and its quite slick, almost like its constantly damp. Its name comes from the old Hylian word "Marudei" which means "stone of water".**

**(3) Boconfer pollen, which is a slate gray-colored powder that smells like iron, is not dangerous if breathed in from far away or in small amounts, like would be drifting through a forest. However, it causes a state of paralysis and often loss of consciousness in grown men if breathed in too closely or in large amounts. In younger people, the same amount is potentially deadly, in that it would induce a coma they might not awaken from.**

**Fuyuko: Some plot development, and some new stuff for everybody to chew on, but otherwise not a whole lot. I should probably tell you that it is getting a bit harder to write this story, but mostly just the little things like the quotes. Which brings me to an interesting topic. I want to know what my readers think of the quotes I put at the beginning of each chapter, and of the anagram forms of the chapter titles. **

**Krin'nal: You weren't just making up weird letter combinations? Those are actually real words? **

**Fuyuko: … Yes, those were actual words, you dolt. They were just mixed up into anagrams, scrambled word puzzles. And now the readers have a multiple-choice quiz!**

**Readers: …What? Nani? Qué? **

**Fuyuko: Don't worry, it's easy! And here it is:**

**Quotes: Would you, kind readers, prefer to A.) Keep them and torture me by making me do them all, as I have been, B.) Keep them and contribute some at your own highly appreciated and valued discretion and effort, or, C.) Get rid of the dang things, because they only take up valuable story space! **

**Chapter Titles: Would you, ever-so-nice-readers, prefer to A.) Keep them as anagrams, nobody cares about them anyway, B.) Keep the anagrams, but solve them for everyone in the chapter, or again, C.) Get rid of them and replace them with the normal words that they actually are!**

**Fuyuko: My only other remarks are that if you choose to contribute quotes, they need to be original, or relative to the story or at least one of its characters. Similarly, if you choose to keep the anagrams and have them solved somewhere else in the chapter, I can tell you right now that it will probably be at the close of each individual chapter. It may, however, also appear next to the anagram form of the title, or in the chapter selection bar. So, dear readers, send me your feed back in a review, please? Oh, and while we're on the subject of reviews…(eye-twitch)**

**Krin'nal: O.O Here it comes! She's gonna blow, hit the deck, Disclaimer-Bot!**

**Fuyuko: …I WAS ORIGINALLY going to go on a MAJOR RANT about how NOBODY REVIEWS, but then, I guess I don't update very often so I can't demand too much of my readers. Still, there were only three people in total that reviewed this last chapter! I mean, come on, people, I know there aren't a lot of people reading this judging by the hit count, but I really would like to hear everyone's feedback. Reviews are what keep a lot of authors here at writing, because we know how you feel about the hard work we do on these stories. I don't even care if you leave anonymous reviews, or if you flame me, I just want honest opinions of my work. (gets off her soapbox) At this time, I'd like to thank E1pnvn for reviewing me each and every chapter, it's been a great confidence booster for me, and I honestly feel that I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. Let me see if I can find some of those sweets you've been asking about, though, so that you may enjoy their virtual goodness.:) I'd also like to thank new reviewer Xaven, who encouraged me to keep updating. My beta, of course, also reviewed and he knows how much I appreciate it, especially since he already beta reads it for me.**

**Well, see you all next chapter, regardless of anything else. **

**Krin'nal and Disclaimer-Bot: That was kinda scary. **

**Read and Review or be Squashed Beneath the Giant Butterfinger of Squishing!**


	5. Eticed Part A

**Fuyuko: Well, I decided I'd start moving forward with this again, because I had a couple of very encouraging reviews. Not to mention that this section was screaming to get out, or else it'd run away from me… T.T**

**Krin'nal: And she likes writing the parts where I'm stealing. Something about less dialogueless pulling of teeth. No clue.**

**Fuyuko: You never have a clue. Then again, I don't exactly let you have them. Mr. Hamster probably would have, but he's still missing. (Looks around guiltily) I have no idea why that could be…It's not like I flushed the little slacker down the toilet or anything…**

**Krin'nal: O.O And you say I'm the sadistic one. Remind me not to piss you off. (1)**

**Disclaimer-Bot: I, Disclaimer-Bot, concur. The esteemed lady author has asked me to inform you that she owns nothing that might be related to the Legend of Zelda, or Jak and Daxter (1), but that she does indeed own Krin'nal and all the other poor OC souls in this fiction. That being said, I, Disclaimer-Bot, wish for you to Read and Enjoy the Following Content to the Utmost. Have a Nice Day!**

**&**

**Anagram-Eticed**

"Life is only as miserable as you make it out to be, good Getado. I hope yours looks better than mine." A war-ally of Getado's to him.

&

"Y'know, I can walk just fine on my own. You don't have to lug me around like a sack of potatoes. Speaking of that, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't throw me out like said sack…of...GAH!" Krin'nal hit the cobblestone lane behind Lord Res'Tauvel's manor with a thump, skidding to the other side. _That overgrown, lousy, son of a…_The boy tried to right himself quick enough to jump his 'escort', but having stumbled dizzily to his feet at last, was chagrined to find that Karuse was gone. Brushing absently at some dirt on his cloak's hem, the boy thief snorted derisively and turned to leave the way he'd come in. _Thinks he can treat me, ME, like that and get away with it? I've got news for Lord I'm-So-Perfect-It-Hurts. I'm nobody's whipping boy, and anyone who thinks they can control me is going to find out the hard way just how wrong they are. _

The market was just beginning to open up as Krin'nal plotted his revenge against his latest employer, sulking down the paths. _How to Annoy Your Employer 101-delay, dwaddle, and dilly-dally, as much as is possible. _Deciding that he could afford a breakfast on this fine day, the youth slowed his pace and took in the multitude of meal choices surrounding him. It wasn't like he had a job to do or anything_…Heh. Let the games begin…_

&

"So that li'l bugger went out on a job already, eh? Well, good riddance tah trouble in a tiny package. That kiddo is more trouble than he's worth, a might bit o' time."

"Worried, old friend?"

"He'd better be worried, Goddesses only know what the poor boy might be getting into right now, and you two lumps just sitting here pondering his fate. Nayru have mercy on your souls!"

"Seems ta me like yah wife is tryin' to guilt us or sumat Vern."

"…I am not getting in this."

Getado grunted at this statement, he'd expected that kind of response from his old friend. "Whipped, that's what yah are Vern. If yah wife didn' look so good in 'em, I'd wonda why yah weren' wearin' the pants in this li'l joint."

"I'm not sure exactly who you think you're buttering up, Getado, but it is certainly not working." Wresta sniffed, having had enough of the banter, and probably would have huffed off if a certain thief hadn't burst through the customarily locked back door, eliciting a small shriek from the missus instead.

The three adults watched as the youth strolled over to the bar, humming a baudy ditty as he placed a bulging sack on the bar's counter. Krin'nal ignored the stares of his adult friends, and after reaching behind the bar for a ragged washcloth, untied the string on the sack, releasing the most delicious aromas, while he pulled out their sources. It seemed as though he had gone all out when buying himself a breakfast, having managed to procure two warm loaves of rye bread, a slab of wood-fired bacon, an omelette loaded with peppers and cheeses, sugar-coated pastries filled with Chu-Chu jelly, and of course, a large bottle of Lon Lon's finest milk.

"So what's happening around my favorite crooked, cozy, Chasm? Get caught detailing the local dirt or just practicing fish-faces?" Krin'nal's words were slightly garbled, as he chose to tear into the omelette before speaking, most likely to annoy all three adults. He wasn't a bad kid, but the thief could be downright obnoxious at times, especially because he found it fun.

"Neither, brat, just the usual adult business talk. Nothing you need to hear about." Vern's acidic response flew back at the mouth-cramming youth, caught between reflecting on how much growing boys ate and how he wished that kid would bite his own tongue, trying to be smart.

"Never mind him, dear child, how did your evening go?" at Krin'nal's non-affirmative grunt, Wresta continued her interrogation, "You just don't seem to be happy today, dearie, and you know I'm just concerned about your job going over well." Motherly sympathy and understanding pored out of the missus's face, while the two men watched the boy's chewing slow, almost like he choked.

"My job is my business and I can handle it, Wresta. And it went fine. My employer and I get along like oil and water. No worries, as they say. I know how to rig it, just like I always do."

Having heard the cold, sardonic reply, Getado shook his head at the other two adults, signaling to leave the kid alone. It was stupid to try to talk to him when he was offended. Vern had to push things, though, it was his tavern afterall, and he could kick people out as he pleased, even if it wasn't during operating hours.

"If you're going to be that way, kid, then you'd better just get out! I've got a business to open up in a couple of hours and I don't need any angsty, cheeky, snot-nosed brats screwing with my clients and my earnings!"

"Fine." An almost tangible cloud of anger radiated from the fourteen year old as he swept out the door.

&

Hours later, having decided that Vern didn't necessarily need to die, Krin'nal found himself again at the carnival site, and realized that it was preparations for the annual Day of the Seal festival. _Man, I really do need to come up to the surface more if I'm forgetting the Day of the Seal. _One of Hyrule's more memorable and traditional celebrations, the events of the Day of the Seal were rather religious in origin, although over time, they too were corrupted and made commercial by society. It was also an especially important holiday to the young thief due to its connotations concerning himself and his various lives. Climbing on top of a circular dais made of clay bricks in the square, Krin'nal could not help but judge the accuracy of the symbols inscribed there against their real counterparts. On the way down, he saw that a sign indicating that the festival itself was to fall on the darkest night of the year, as always, which was, according to it, only two days away. _Great. I don't need memories of that while I'm trying to work._

Grumbling to himself about bad timing and certain Golden Ladies, the thief continued on his way, noting with a mix of amusement and disgust the number of vendors and the variety of their wares cropping up for 'special sales' during the festival. It really was strange what passed for religious piety these days, not that he could say anything. His own piety was limited to his service to the Golden Ladies and their destiny for him. _Funny how that's still better than most priests._

"There's never enough time for a festival, you know." Krin'nal stopped in his tracks, pivoting to face the direction of the voice.

"..Well, you're not someone I thought I'd see out on the town, so to speak. What are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to greet an old friend? I'd much prefer a 'hello, how are, how's the sage business' after such a long time. Well, long for you. We both know time does not pass in the Realm of the Sages."

"I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Krin'nal. I think in your old age, you've confused me with some religious and mythology fanatic you know. And I don't want to be him, so get outta my way." His hood may not have been up, but the boy's dark blonde hair was getting long enough to shade his eyes if he held his head so the bangs fell just so. The balding white-haired old man in ornate robes of golds, yellows, and whites kept his eyes fixed on the face he knew was being deliberately hidden from him. This was not how he and the others had foreseen the events of this time unfolding, but then, he was also fully aware of the fact that the youth before him was one of the two people with the power to change history in this realm. _Go away, already, I'm through with this crap and you know it. Knew it. Probably before I did. Din-damned sage._

"My mistake then. It seems you are not the one I was seeking. He is not a lost child. I suggest you head for your home, young lad, as it will be busy here soon, and you will only be in the way of the preparations for the festival." Without another nod or glance in the now steaming youth's directions, the elderly Sage of Light departed slowly and regally, drifting in and out of existence as he went along the cobbled stones of the square towards the Temple of Time.

For his part, the boy known as Krin'nal dropped his head further toward the ground, torn between being incensed at the old man's words and letting his unexpected feelings of shame swallow him. True that he didn't want his old life back, but undeniable that he was still the person he was born and destined to be. _There really is no way to win, is there? Heh. That's how my life always has been. A series of lose-lose choices. Well, screw that, I'm done with servitude and I can do my destiny from the shadows too. Do it my way. _Enveloped in his thoughts, Krin'nal backtracked through the square to his safe-house to supply himself for the day's work.

&

In one of the more abandoned sectors of Castle Town's back alleys there remained a string of middle class apartments from during the wartime that had been deserted when the western outer wall fell to enemy troops. Although the wall was repaired and reinforced after that particular front of the Unification War, the families that had once lived there had moved on to other parts of Hyrule, such as Kakariko, and the old buildings were left to become vacant and decay. Over time, this ruined sector of the town was even rumored to harbor a few restless spirits from the war era, leading even the poor and homeless to give it a wide berth. Simultaneously, the old neighborhood became part of the back alleys that Hyrule's underground claimed, and a few of the more fearless among this caste of society even settled in the old apartments.

Such was the case with Krin'nal, who had no reason to fear the horror stories that the townsfolk spread – _I've seen Poes and Redeads, so it's not like a few unhappy dead people will bug me_ – and found that the abandoned area kept him comfortably secluded from everyone. Even better for the boy was the fact that his choice in homes meant that he could have a decent sized pad in which to ferret away his various 'finds' and set up base in. An old upper floor apartment with three rooms to it had been his premier choice, and luckily for the thief, it had been kept abandoned since the war time as it was rumored by even the most stalwart of undergrounders to have a 'bad aura' surrounding it. Gifted as he was by the Golden Ladies, Krin'nal knew it was all in their heads, as he'd never felt the telltale tingle that such 'infestations' set off in the back of his skull. _Honestly, I don't know where I'd be if people didn't loose their heads so easily. It's thanks to superstition and rumors that I have such a sparkling lifestyle these days._ Setting down his parcel of food in the doorway to his 'home sweet home', the thief gave his lodgings a cursory look-over.

The whole building was arranged somewhat like a triangle, with a large front room that connected to a small dining area behind it. Adjacent to these two rooms was the bedroom, and the wall that Krin'nal had repaired himself with some lumbar he'd gotten a five-fingered discount on. Apparently the bedroom had once had a tiny bathroom behind it, but since the plumbing obviously no longer functioned – _although I'm sure the 'ghosts' would have liked the royal officials to have left it on _– the boy had simply sealed up the broken wall between them. Inside the bedroom Krin'nal had managed to procure a bed from some rich noble's trash, although he'd had to buy new bedding for it. Both his 'safety' and his display table also resided in the room, basically so he could keep the valuable items and rupees he had saved up within arm's reach and eye's sight. The table, which had a short fourth leg that had needed a brick placed under it, mostly held a variety of his better weapons, such as an enchanted crossbow he'd kept from an employer by swapping it out with a regular one hand-painted into a replica. There were a few other knick-knacks on its less than glossy surface, however, including a set of china wolf sculptures, a horse's bridle, an ocarina, and a stuffed bear. _I would never live it down if someone saw that, even if it is my oldest toy. My only toy._

Back in the great room that comprised much of the front of the building, the thief had furnished his abode with a thread-bare but still good woven rug to keep a chill off his feet in Hyrule's bitter cold winters. Besides an oil lamp next to the bedroom doorway, and a rickety rocking chair, there were only two long wooden boxes in the room. Each box was used for a different kind of storage, as Krin'nal had too many tools and weapons to place in his room, and his clothes, which were often dirty and in need of change upon his arrival were kept in the box near the door. This particular box had one of its cardboard cousins stuffed in one side of it, where the boy kept his 'clean' clothes. The rest he threw in the box directly, and when the two got unbalanced, he carried the dirty ones down to the Chaste Chasm so Wresta would wash them for him. _Even I've got to admit that her motherly instincts aren't always a hindrance._ The second long box was positioned along the far wall, and overflowed with the various lock-picks, poisons, potions, tools, and tricks that any good thief was known to possess.

The final room in Krin'nal's home was just as sparse as the rest, housing a small larder box for salted meats, breads, and other foods he could keep for a time, a round table where he ate his meals, and a tall empty box that blocked most of his 'bathroom' from view. _It's the height of comfort for when I'm home anyways, which hasn't been lately. _Being that he'd wanted some kind of private toilet, the fourteen year old has recently found an old chamber pot and washbasin set in the antique shop on Syks and Graf, and 'Anagram' had made a second visit there. Now that he was growing up, the boy found that having a private restroom was a good idea, since taking a leak in the street was only fun if you didn't feel awkward doing it.

Satisfied that no unwelcome guests had dropped by, he picked up his parcel of food ad carried it into the back room to put in the larder for tonight. It would go bad not much after that, so he intended to be home at least this once. Plans that he hoped wouldn't go awry with this evening's other events. He'd wanted to stall longer on the job from that stupid jerk Res'tauvel and his lackey Karuse, but after the peevish day he'd already had, he figured it would be a good idea to relieve stress through some light work. Breaking into the palace on a scope-out mission shouldn't be too hard.

Again humming his baudy ditty from the Chaste Chasm, the young thief proceeded from his larder to his weapons trunk in the living room, pulling out a long gold and black sword that he hadn't used in years, but that was certain to come in handy if he had to fight palace guards. They were the only ones of all their ilk worth anything, although Krin'nal knew that none posed a serious threat to him in real combat. If he was playing, it might be an even field, but even then, the poor saps were sadly lacking. No small wonder she and her nobility had tried so hard to cage him in with them before.

He grit his teeth and blotted that thought from his mind, forcefully reminding himself that he wasn't a puppet anymore, and the only reason he'd go near their opulent lifestyle again was to take it away from them. _As they say, no sense in crying over spilt milk and worrying about the past._ His agile thief's hands grabbed another vial of oil, having chucked the empty one away on the street. In the process his eyes examined a bottle of icy crystals that he'd kept since their impulse purchase from a vendor who only dealt to underground workers. The man had said the crystals would expand into a field of treacherous ice if tossed onto any floor, and the thief had saved it for a special occasion. _Now's a good time to see if it was a worthy buy._ If it was, he could track the vendor down through Vern's connections or go to the Knothole if he got desperate enough.

Contrary to what Wresta thought, Krin'nal was more than capable of handling the thugs littering the infamous bar and underground hangout. His preference between the two, of course, was still the more welcoming Chaste Chasm, but if he needed to get dirt, it made sense to head straight for the source at the grungier establishment. Having re-supplied his stash of thin lock-picking daggers that he kept hidden in a hood pouch and grabbed another satchel of Boconfer pollen as well as a hookshot, the by thief stood, straightened his black tunic and cloak, and left his humble home.

&

Sunset in Hyrule was just as glamorous as its earlier counterpart, with the added bonus for most people that it signaled the start of another evening of parties and self-indulgence. For underground workers and especially thieves, however, it also heralded the time when their work was easiest to perform. _Really, it ain't hard to rob people blind in broad daylight, but at night? It's a frickin' free for all!_ The barely turned fourteen thief made his way through the square with the festival preparations again, this time studiously ignoring their captivating progress. He wasn't a child, and he couldn't afford to waste time on childish games.

Turning away from the main part of town and the richer looking nobles quarter, the youth found his feet following a white marbled path that was more than familiar to him. There was no mistaking that such a grandiose path led to the palace, as even in the twilight one could see the carvings of the triforce, the three goddesses, and the eternal phoenix on the rich stones. It was unnecessary advertising, of course, since one could also see the palace the entire time the route was walked upon, but he knew the royal family of Hyrule was the worst for showing off their wealth with such displays. _If regular people didn't tell them food was for eating, they'd probably use it to make grand replicas of their stupid oversized castle._ He snorted at the thought of such a scene. It would take the king and all of his officials three to four days to pick the food used in the construction alone, and they'd all have to taste it for perfection. Idiocy.

Appearing at last near the bend before the gatehouse, the thief paused to gather up his wits for the work he was about to begin. If he remembered accurately – and I would know from doing this in my first life and doing it backwards in my escape – there was a series of trellises and thick vines that served as a nice climbing tool for the first stage of his break in. Saved him the trouble of getting by the guard at the gate and the ones on the main path beyond it, and he didn't need to hookshot either.

Not that he minded to use his hookshot, but it was better if he didn't have to go whipping through the air after a clinking chain. Less noise, less chance of getting caught, because the thick helmets of the royal guards would probably only intensify the sound through reverberations. He snickered quietly to himself, thinking of the headaches they must get while on duty. Especially if they had to guard miss royal whiny brat. _I wonder if she's still such a child...or if she's become the young woman from my strange second life._ He shook his head, and reaching to his left, grasped a lower tier of the trellis and began to climb.

After his climb, he knew there would be that open field of cultivated grass and flowers to cross, but the last time he'd been at the palace, security there had been lax, with only a few of the royal helmet-heads on duty at the perimeter. Next there would be the choice of going uphill to the castle's western wall and eventually the stables entrance, or going through the moat along to the eastern wall and the inner garden. The inner garden, he was sure, would be swarming with guards at this point in the evening, so as not to leave the area closest to the royal family's quarters too exposed.

Better then to take the less clogged route through stables entrance and into the main court of the castle by the western wall, Krin'nal decided as he finished scaling the trellis of vines and continued on in that direction. His sword clanked a bit much for his liking if he ran, so the blonde and hooded youth was reduced to walking across the open field, resulting in a more tense trip than he'd have liked. His mind, usually calm and even detached from the work at hand while on a job, was swirling with thoughts.

What if he was caught here? What would they do with him, prosecute as a petty trespasser or find out that he was Anagram and behead him on the spot? Worse yet, what if she recognized him from his other lives and had him caged in again? There was no way he wanted to repeat that part of his life. _Dammit, I don't need this shit right now! _

His black-booted feet began treading up the incline leading along the castle's western wall, and the thief's blue eyes darted around him to make sure that nobody would see him here. His long pointed ears were twitching slightly from the strain of trying to hear at maximum distance, something of about fifty or more feet away from his position. He wasn't fully matured yet, so the range of his sensitive hearing wasn't really at a lifetime maximum, but his rugged lifestyle had compensated for this by making him more acutely aware of unusual sounds in the outdoors. He was, due to all of this, fairly certain that no one was following him, but better that he erred on the side of caution and kept to the darkness as much as possible.

_It would seem that castle security has not improved between my breakout and my break-in, which is good for me even if it shows how complacent the royal family is these days. _He couldn't exactly decide whether to smirk or scowl at this thought, finding that his new and more sinisterly employed self was again at war with his voice of origin. Reaching the white marbled western wall at last, he slunk into its shadows becoming little more than a swirl of motion inside them. It was time for him to strike back at the heart of the nobles. Time and more than time for him to prove himself in his new life. Tonight was the perfect time for him to scope out the royal vault and the prize that Res'Tauvel had hire him to claim. Time was on his side once more.

**&**

**Fuyuko: And hopefully time will be on my side so that I can write the rest of chapter four and post it ASAP. I'm sorry to the few loyal readers I have, but my heart really hasn't been in this work recently. **

**Krin'nal: I knew it. You do hate me.**

**Fuyuko: No, I don't hate Krin'nal or any of the other characters and this story is still dear to me, but I just can't seem to write this the way I want without changing the rating too something too serious. Anagram is a dark work, but it isn't supposed to be that way either. Still, I don't feel as free writing this as I do some of my other works, such as my DMC fics. But then, it's probably just paranoid and strange lil ol' me. **

**Please Read and Review even if it's just to Flame for my Absence. **


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